


Beautiful Nothing

by FlagofHeaven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dad!Castiel, Detective Charlie Bradbury, Detective Dean Winchester, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Professor Castiel, Protective Claire Novak, Protective Dean Winchester, Smut, Top Castiel, and some breaking up but not forever, the author shamelessly borrows dialogue from the show for easter eggs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlagofHeaven/pseuds/FlagofHeaven
Summary: While working a murder case, Detective Dean Winchester meets the awkward Castiel Novak, a professor who helps him translate the weird symbols carved into the victim's body. One murder, a kidnapping, and lots of flirting later they finally start dating. Dean has his trust issues and Castiel has his secrets ...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have this planned out as a story that has 3 main acts, and my plan is to publish all the chapters of each act as I complete them, so sorry if there's a long wait until the next section is up.

“Charlie, give me my phone back.”

Charlie grinned, kicked her feet up on her desk and winked. “Yeah, yeah, in a second Winchester. Just gotta finish building --”

Dean playfully swiped at the phone, trying to get it back. “Charlie, if you sign me up for another stupid dating website --”

“Dude, you gotta live more. Your weird choice to pursue a life of celibacy is clearly based on the fact you’re --”

“Never said I was celibate, said I wasn’t looking to date right now.” Dean grabbed the phone back, and rolled his eyes at the profile Charlie was building for him. He raised his eyebrows, “Impala67? Really?”

Charlie shrugged.

“Hey! You two wanna keep screwing around, or try to earn your paychecks?” Jody Mills,  _ Captain _ Jody Mills to be precise, was standing next to their desks, hands on her hips, a no-nonsense expression on her face. “It’s a police precinct, not high school.”

“Sorry, Captain,” Dean mumbled.

“Yeah, uh, my fault,” Charlie added.

Jody shook her head. “You’re lucky you’re my best detectives and you didn’t hear that from me. Now get to it. Where are we on your the interstate case?”

Dean sat up straight, shuffling through papers on his desk, and opened up the case file. “Victim, uh, Ronnie Dermer, grad student at the university, from out of state. Talked to the parents over the phone, they didn’t have anything helpful. Interviewed the roommate, who said that Ronnie was a bookie on the side, funding his way through school. But we can’t find his ledger anywhere, so so far we can’t figure out who he might have owed money to.”

“Kinda a loner,” Charlie chimed in. “Had one close associate at the university, uh…” she looked down at her notes, “Timothy Zidon, another grad student, but no motive there.”

“What about the weird markings?” Jody asked.

Dean pulled out the crime scene photos. “Yeah, not really sure what to make of those. The victim’s body was carved with these weird symbols, they could be letters or runes of some kind. Looks like something from one of Charlie’s video games.” 

“Hey!” Charlie objected. 

“Forensics pulled some prints, but they weren’t in the system, so for now they’re useless. I’m going to talk with Ronnie’s thesis advisor, he was studying ancient religions and cultic cultural something or other. Maybe he’ll have a clue about the symbols,” Dean said, closing up the folder.

“You think one of the other students or teacher did this?” Jody asked.

Dean shrugged. “Hard to tell. I mean, it makes sense if they scribbled the nonsense on his body, but there’s no motive.”

“That we know of,” Charlie chimed in. “Maybe it was part of a cultic sacrifice or spell.”

“ _ Or _ ,” Dean added, trying to keep them in the real world, “they knew Ronnie was studying this stuff and did this to throw us off track. Say he’s someone’s bookie and they want to divert suspicion off themself, this would do the trick. We need to find that ledger.”

“Ok, look into both possibilities -- that it’s someone covering their tracks or that it’s someone invested in the symbols themselves. Let’s hope it wasn’t a spell to summon the devil or anything,” Jody joked. “Alright, go talk to the professor and keep me posted. And Dean, don’t forget, dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Right, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Dinner?” Charlie asked after Jody headed back to her office. 

“Oh, yeah, Jody is having Sam and me over for dinner so she can lecture me about being single, discuss wedding plans with Eileen, critique my eating habits, you know, mom-stuff. She takes the whole mama bear thing really seriously.” 

“Must be nice,” Charlie said quietly. “Ok, if you’re done ignoring your potential on OkCupid, we can hit the road.”

Dean followed her out to the parking garage. He had been a detective for several years now, but Charlie was just a few months into the job. She’d shown a lot of promise as a cop, and before that had worked as a computer programmer, which meant they never had to wait for computer forensics when they needed data fast. Though Charlie was still finding her way around the personal interaction parts of the job, Jody had seen her potential and given her a chance, pairing her with Dean in hopes that he’d have a good influence. And Charlie was a lot of fun to hang out with outside of work too, she’d introduced Dean to LARPing and the online gaming world. 

“I wanna take another look through the dorm room, see if I can find his ledger,” Charlie said. “You wanna take the advisor … um,” Charlie looked through her notepad. “Professor Castiel Novak.”

“Castiel?” asked Dean. “Weird name.”

“You should open with that.”

“Yeah, cuz chicks dig it when you make fun of them in your first meeting.”

“What makes you think Castiel is a chick?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. Castiel is like, a pretty name, it’s uh … does it sound, I mean I don’t know any other …”

“Wow. You haven’t even met  _ him _ yet and you’re losing it. Maybe I should take the professor and you take the dorm room?”

“Funny. I got this. And 5 bucks says this  _ Cas _ is a hot lady professor with those glasses and --”

“Dibs if she is.” 

"Hey!"

"Too slow, Dean," Charlie grinned. 

* * * * *

Castiel Novak, Professor of ancient religions and languages, was not in fact a hot chick. He was however a tall drink of water with misfitting clothes, rumpled bedroom-hair, piercing blue eyes, and a gravelly voice that made Dean’s whole body tingle.  _Wow, a tall drink of water, what are you 16?_ Dean thought to himself.

“Um, hi Professor Novak, I’m Detective Dean Winchester.” Dean flashed his badge and tried to keep his thoughts in order. “I need to ask you a few questions about a student of yours. If, uh, if now is a good time. If not, you know, um, if you’re not, I mean if it’s not a great time, I could um --”

“Now is fine, please come in Detective.” Professor Novak offered his hand and Dean hoped his palms weren’t embarrassingly sweaty as he shook it. Professor Novak sat down behind his desk, motioning for Dean to sit in front. “Can I get you any tea or coffee?”

“Uh, no that’s cool. I’m good.” 

Novak’s office was filled with books. Every wall had floor to ceiling bookcases that were overfilled, plus stacks of manuscripts and books at least three feet high in front of most of the shelves. The office was dimly lit (Dean could see the windows were blocked by bookcases) and had that old-book smell of an attic or used book store. 

“What can I do for you, Detective?”

_ Oh, so, so many things, _ Dean’s brain answered. “Well, I need to ask you a few questions about Ronnie Dermer.”

  
“Oh.” Novaks’ expression saddened, he sighed heavily. 

“Something wrong?”

“I assume if the police are here, it can only mean that something bad happened to Ronnie or that Ronnie did something bad to someone else. Either way, I expect to severely dislike whatever circumstances have brought you here today.”

“You have a curious way of speaking,” Dean joked. 

“I have been informed of that. So, Ronnie?”

“He was your thesis advisee, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And when did you last see him?”

Novak considered. “Um, we had a meeting to discuss his final project. Sorry, I’m bad with dates, let me just check … maybe three days ago? Or four?” Novak rifled through the messy pile of papers on his desk and pulled out an old-fashioned leather bound journal. It was stuffed full of extra papers and cards, with colorful post-it notes marking different pages. Novak flipped through and scanned the pages. “Ah, yes. Ronnie was here Monday.”

Dean made a note. “And what was your meeting about? Did he say or do anything weird or unusual?” 

Novak shook his head. “No, he just wanted to check in about his research, get some guidance on sources and he --, oh, he needed some help translating an old manuscript. Old languages are one of my specialties, so we spent some time working on that.”

“Old languages? Like, ancient runes and symbols, that kind of thing?”

Novak nodded. “Detective, I am trying to be respectful of your investigation, but Ronnie was my student, I care about him, and I would like to know what happened to him. Please.”

That phrasing seemed weird to Dean. Everything was telling him this professor dude was harmless, but leave no stone unturned in a murder investigation. 

Dean purposefully looked down at his notepad. “You care about him, huh? Something you want to add?” He looked up at the professor, his gaze narrowing. “You spend a lot of time with Ronnie Dermer, Professor? Maybe some late night office hours  _ translating _ text together?”  Dean expected him to look guilty, or uncomfortable, or to shift in his seat and avoid Dean’s gaze. Novak just looked confused. 

“I don’t understand your question.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, worth a try. Ok Professor, I’m asking if your relationship with Ronnie Dermer extended beyond that of a teacher and student.” By the looks of his expression, he still wasn’t getting it. Dean tried not to laugh. “I’m asking if you two ever you know…” 

Novak looked bewildered. “If we ….? Detective, I would very much like to cooperate with you, but your half sentences are making it quite difficult."

“Did you have a sexual or romantic relationship with Ronnie Dermer?” Dean blurted out.

A long silence hung in the air. 

“Absolutely not,” Novak said eventually. 

“Ok, just checking.”

“Ronnie is straight, detective, at least based on things he said to me.” Novak’s gaze had turned hard and annoyed. Dean held up his hands in surrender. Novak took a deep breath before continuing. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Dean nodded. “His body was found out in the wooded area near the interstate two days ago. Look, I know this is hard, but I need to ask you a few more questions.”

Novak’s eyes lost focus and shrugged noncommittally. “Of course, ask.”

“Do you know anyone who didn’t like Ronnie? Anyone who had a beef with him, even if it seems small. Did he mention anything weird or anyone who might want to hurt him?”

“No, nothing like that. He was a pretty quiet student, kept to himself. Loved school and his research, wanted to be a professor someday, or well, at least he told me that once.”

“You must be a good professor to inspire someone like that,” Dean said gently. “I have to ask, but where were you Tuesday night?” 

“I, uh, I was here, late, grading papers. And then my daughter called and reminded me to come home and eat dinner. I went home, picked up take out on the way, and we were home together the rest of the night.”

“What takeout place?”

“The Chinese place on 6th.”

“Yeah, I know it, great dumplings. And was anyone else there? A spouse, or significant other?”

Novak shook his head. “No, it’s just me and Claire. I don’t have anyone like that right now.”

“And Claire is how old?”

“She’s 16, she’s a junior over at West High. Um, here’s her cell phone if you want to call her and check.”

“Thanks.” Dean took the scrap of paper that Novak had scribbled the number on. “Finally, I’m hoping you can help me with this.” He pulled out a picture from the file. “Ronnie’s body was mutilated, and I thought they were nonsense scribbles at first. But knowing now his interest in old languages, I think maybe they’re letters of some kind.” Dean passed the photo over Novak. “Do you recognize this? Any idea if these say something or are just gibberish?”

Novak looked at the picture, tilting his head in this adorable way to the side and squinting at the picture of Ronnie’s arm. 

_ Adorable? Pull yourself together man, you’re working a murder! _ Dean lectured himself. 

“I’m not sure, it’s definitely characters, but I’m not sure what they say --”

“Thought you were an expert?”

Novak sighed, not hiding his frustration. “I  _ am _ an expert, however ancient languages often share alphabets or are similar enough to be mistaken for one another. Further, all languages, including English, contain words that have more than one meaning. Thus if we are truly going to work out what these letters are and what they mean, I will need a few hours of uninterrupted time with my dictionaries and codices.”

Dean did not want to admit how turned on the professor’s annoyed lecture in that goddam gravelly voice made him. He cleared his throat and tried to regain his train of thought. 

“Well, I can see why Ronnie was inspired by you. Ok, if I let you keep the pictures and give you some time, do you think you could translate these?”

“Of course. Ronnie was a good student, if I can do anything to help find his killer, I want to offer you my undivided attention and assistance.” 

_Was the guy just incapable of forming normal sentences,_ Dean wondered. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you Professor Novak.”

“Please, um, call me Castiel.”

“Alright, Castiel. If you could translate them and let me know, that would be a huge help.” Dean handed him his card. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call.” 

“Of course.”

Dean reached out to shake his hand again. “Oh, and about before, I’m really sorry if I insulted you by implying something between you and Ronnie. Hazard of the job is asking people awkward questions like that, but I hope I didn’t offend you.”

“Is another hazard of the job buying a drink for someone once they’re cleared as a suspect?” Castiel asked, his blue eyes dancing mischievously.

Dean’s brain temporarily froze. Once he remembered how to speak, he grinned. “That’s actually the official policy for how clear suspects. Especially the devastatingly handsome ones.” Hoping to get away with some dignity left, Dean headed for the door. 

“I hope you solve the case quickly then so I can get off your suspect list.” 

_ Did he just wink at me? _ Dean walked backwards into the chair, knocking his knee into it hard. “What, oh yeah, me too. Uh, gotta go, get back, uh --” luckily he reached the doorway and stepped outside. Why is it he hadn’t just burst into flame or the earth opened to swallow him? And Professor Novak was seriously flirting with him at the end, right? Dean shook his head to clear it. He closed his eyes to take a calming breath, but all he saw was ice-blue eyes dancing around his imagination.

_ Great. Just great.  _


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was jolted awake by his phone ringing. Without opening his eyes he searched for it with his hand, knocking several things off the nightstand in his blind attempt to grab the device. He rubbed his eyes, trying to see the phone. It was a local number, but not one he recognized.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Detective?” a deep voice answered. “It’s Castiel. Um, Professor Novak. From the university.”

_ Goddam that voice. _

Dean cleared his throat, sitting up and turning the bedside lamp on. “Professor?... oh yeah. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to let you know I finished translating the runes on Ronnie’s arms, but I have some bad news, it seems to be a spell of some kind. Or a code, it’s difficult to tell. The dialect is very old, it reads like poetry -- ”

Dean’s head hurt. 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down man. It’s,” Dean glanced at the clock. “It’s four in the morning!”

“I know, I just --”

“Have you been working on this all night?”

“Of course not.” That was a relief. “I’ve been working on this ever since we spoke earlier today.”

“Yesterday,” Dean corrected.  _ Like that’s what’s important? _

“Fine, yesterday. The point is, detective, it took me much longer than intended since poetry has it’s own --”

“But why are you calling me at 4am?” Dean grumbled.

Castiel sounded confused. “I was under the impression that finding Ronnie’s killer was of the utmost importance, detective.”

“Castiel, of course it is. I just … I need to do things --”

“What things?”

“In this case, sleep. Crazy thought, but I need like four hours every once in awhile. So just, you can call me back in the morning.”

“Alright, I’ll just wait --.”

Dean didn’t hear the rest. He hung up and collapsed back into the bed. Dean tossed and turned for awhile, but he was unable to fall back asleep.  _ Dammit Castiel.  _ Around 5:30 he just gave up, showered and made some fresh coffee. Might as well hit the ground running. Unsurprisingly, he was the first one in the station at 7am. He wasn’t sure when Castiel would call him back and replay his theory about poetry or why it mattered, but in the meantime he had reports to write and a suspect list to narrow down. 

By the time Charlie showed up at 9am, Dean was onto his fifth cup of coffee and third bag of potato chips. 

“I see you’re starting the morning with a balanced breakfast,” Charlie commented, stealing a chip.

“Yeah, yeah thanks mom.”

At 9:01 exactly, Dean’s phone rang. He recognized the number from 4am. 

“Winchester.”

“Detective, this is Castiel calling you back. Is now a more satisfactory time?”

Dean didn’t know why the guy got under his skin like this. He had met him literally yesterday and already Dean found him annoyingly cute. “Yeah, Professor, this is a great _daylight-hours_ time. Would you like to share your findings with me?”

“It might be more helpful to do it in person.”

“Ok,” Dean exited the break-room and passed by the elevator, “well if you want to come down to the station --” 

The elevator doors opened to reveal Castiel Novak, a large binder in his hands, stepping into Dean’s path.

“I’m there now,” Castiel said into his phone, standing close enough that Dean heard him in real life and then a split second later on the phone. 

“Yeah, I get that.” 

“I’m gonna hang up now,” Castiel said, stepping even closer. 

“Right.”

Dean stared at Castiel as the other man put away his phone (a flip-phone, jeez, he took the ancient culture thing a bit far). 

“Detective?”

“Huh? Right, yeah, your findings. Ok.” Dean awkwardly shoved his phone back into his pocket and led Castiel over to his desk. Charlie winked at Dean as Castiel took a seat. 

“Professor Novak, this is my partner, Detective Charlie Bradbury.”

“Hey,” Charlie smiled. “I heard you were gonna help us translate the scribbles on our vic.”

“Charlie --” Dean warned quietly.

“Sorry, I mean, on Ronnie Dermer,” Charlie corrected. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

If he was offended by the casualness of Charlie’s comment, Castiel didn’t show it. He opened up the binder he was carrying to reveal multiple versions of the photos Dean had given him, each covered in comments, attempted translations, and notes.

“This is all very strange to me. I’ve never been to a police station before, let alone worked on a case,” Castiel said. “I’m not sure how you, I mean, the proper procedure to --”

“Just tell us what you found and we’ll go from there,” Charlie said.

“Of course. How much detail on the variants of translation and dialect are you interested in?”

“Hows about you just skip to the punchline?” Dean said, trying to hide his frustration.

“Well, that’s the strange part. It took me awhile to translate it accurately because it’s a very old dialect, one that doesn’t follow the same grammar rules --”

“Castiel. Too much information.”

“My apologies. I thought at first it was a code, but in fact it’s a poem. The poetic structure fit that of old spells, and upon cross-referencing, I discovered this is in fact an blood-sacrifice spell. The victim would have been alive when these marks were carved into their body, and they would have had to be fed a special tea made of certain herbs beforehand, and then be offered in a forest shrine.”

“Whoa. You’re like our very own Indiana Jones,” Charlie said excitedly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Ronnie’s body was found in the woods, under a tree,” he pulled out another photo. “Here, yeah, he was found under this large tree.”

Castiel studied the photo. “See this? The split in the trunk into four separate trunks? It happens when trees are trimmed a certain way. But in the ancient world such a tree would have been revered as a sacred place.”

“But you said the victim was carved with the letters while still alive, right?” Charlie asked. “But the coroner said that the marks made on Ronnie were definitely done post mortem.”

“I guess that rules me out,” Castiel said, winking at Dean. “I make sure to follow the directions when doing a blood sacrifice.”

Dean laughed. “Funny. Ok, so that means either the person who did this was just trying to use all this cultic stuff as a coverup, or they botched their sacrifice.”

Castiel nodded. “Oh, one other thing. The victim for this sacrifice must be an elder of the tribe.” 

“An elder? But Ronnie was just a kid. He was maybe, what, twenty-seven?”

Castiel shrugged. “I’m not convinced it means age. I think it might have to do with wisdom or knowledge. Ronnie was very smart and academically savvy; despite his age, in some ways he fits the profile.”   


“What’s the point of the spell?” Charlie asked. “Like, what do you get for completing it?”

“I’m not sure,” Castiel said. “That part of the manuscript I was consulting was partially missing. I want to compare it to some other sources … the notes I had said you get the “gold of the person”, but again, I cannot give a definitive answer.”

“You mind doing some more research?” Dean asked. “If we knew the intended outcome, it might help us figure the motive of the person who did this.”

“I’ll keep working on it and call you once I find something,” Castiel agreed. He awkwardly looked at Dean, like he wasn’t sure if a handshake or simple goodbye was required. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Dean said, trying to smooth over the wierd that was suddenly in the air. He led the way back the elevator. “Professor, I really do appreciate your help. We will find whoever killed your student, I promise you.”

“Thank you, Detective Winchester.” 

Dean smiled. “Still want off that suspect list?” 

Castiel looked confused for a moment, and then finally smiled back. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep a lot --”

“Cuz you were calling me at 4am!” Dean winked. “If you could call me before the witching hour tonight, that’d be great.”

“Sorry, my mistake. Well, it was nice to see you again.” Castiel got in the elevator. “Bye, Detective.”

Dean decidedly ignored the funny feeling in his stomach and … other places … when Castiel called him ‘detective’. To be fair, the professor was just showing respect, and if Dean wanted he could have asked Castiel to call him by his first name ….  _ Or maybe we’ll get that drink and he’ll call me  _ detective  _ again… _

“Hey, you awake over there, or daydreaming about Dr. Sexy?” 

“Huh?” Dean snapped back into reality to see Charlie staring at him and grinning.

“Dr Novak?”

“Doctor?”

“He’s a professor, which means he --. Nevermind. Anyway, care to help me with this case?”

 

* * * * *

They interviewed Timothy Zidon, the other ancient religions grad student. He was moody and quiet, but answered their questions. He gave an alibi that Charlie was going to check up on. He seemed mostly intrigued by the carvings done on victim, but Dean and Charlie refused to tell him more despite his morbid fascination. 

“I think the guy is weird and creepy, but not a murderer,” Dean said after he left. 

Charlie finally found Ronnie’s ledger and they found a few potential suspects in there -- people Ronnie owed money. But after hours of interrogations, nothing substantial.  Dean and Charlie agreed to check back in later in case either of them had a breakthrough. Dean still hadn’t heard back from Castiel, but he tried hard to push the professor from his mind; he didn’t need any extra distractions right now.

Dean was twenty minutes late getting to Jody’s house for dinner. Something about this case didn’t quite fit. Dean was not going to enjoy dinner while his brain whirled with possible answers. 

“Everything ok?” Jody asked when he finally arrived. 

“Yeah, sorry Jody, Charlie and I have been bogged down in this case, I lost track of time.”

Jody offered him a beer, which he refused.

“Sorry, Captain, gotta keep a clear head. I’m going back to the station after dinner and Charlie and I are gonna solve this one.”

“Dean, if I’ve learned one thing from my years on the force, it’s that sometimes you need a good night of sleep and a homecooked meal in order to bring fresh eyes to the case. You’re useless if you’re exhausted.”

“Well, that’s why god invented coffee and 5 hr energy shots, right?”

“Dude, you work harder than most agents I know,” Sam called from the couch where he and his finace, Eileen, were sitting. 

“That right Sammy? Well, us small time cops gotta stay sharp so we can keep up with the Feds.”

“What’s your case?” Eileen asked, signing as she spoke.

Dean sat down across from her so she could read his lips and his hands stumbled through the signs he knew as he spoke. “A university student was uh, murdered, and his body was covered in these weird -- uh, god what’s the sign for runes? -- um, R-U-N-E-S,” he fingerspelled, “and he was a student of ancient culture and religion, so we think maybe it’s connected to that somehow, but I dunno.”

“You have any good suspects?” Sam asked. He was a total nerd and Dean was sure would love all this old ancient stuff. 

Dean shook his head. “There’s a grad student whose story is fishy, but I think he’s just kinda odd. He doesn’t really have motive to kill Ronnie, they were research partners and not in the ‘kill him for his research grant’ kinda way. But, we found out our vic was also running a little business on the side, you know, uh, bookkeeping. And from that angle we had several suspects, but nothing that really stuck.”

“Hey, no shop talk,” Jody called. “Dinner’s up.”

Sam motioned to Eileen and the three of them headed for the table.

Dinner passed without much more ‘shoptalk’, but Dean’s mind kept wandering back to the case. And then wandering back to the charmingly awkward blue-eyed professor. Between the two, he barely paid attention to Jody grill Sam and Eileen about their wedding plans, or Eileen share funny stories about how she and Sam could secretly talk at work since no one else in their office could sign. 

“...Dean? You still in there?”

“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking …”

“About your case? Or did you meet someone?” Jody asked. “Who was that funny man in the trench coat who came down to the station this morning?”

“Oh, no one. I mean, he’s the vic’s thesis advisor, and he was helping us translate the weird letters on the body.” Dean’s mind was working fast, there was something he wasn’t seeing. Something right outside of his train of thought, if he could just pull on that string a little harder, the mystery would unravel and he could figure it out …. 

“Sam would like him,” Dean mused aloud, not really talking to anybody. “He’s uh, this totally awkward, but still polite and charming guy. He teaches about old languages and religions, yeah, Sam would love him. All that mythology and stuff you nerded out over as a kid. The letters carved on the victim’s body were part of a spell.”

“A spell to do what?” Eileen asked.

“Unclear. Give the person the uh, what was it… the ‘gold of the victim’, which I guess means wealth. Oh,” Dean added belatedly. “And you have to use the elder or the smartest person or something like that. Like I said, weird stuff.” 

“Well, could ‘gold’ mean the person’s intellect?” Sam asked. Of course he was into all this nerdy stuff. “Assume you have to use the ‘elder’ because they have the most knowledge. So maybe getting their ‘gold’ is getting their intellectual ability? That would make sense, I mean, to an extent, your victim was top of his class, he probably had some good wisdom worth taking.”

“Through dark spell work?” Eileen teased. Sam shrugged.

Dean laughed. “Well, joke’s on him then, he did the spell wrong. According to the professor, you have to mark the victim while they’re alive, and this idiot did it post-mortem --.” It all suddenly clicked in Dean’s brain. He barely heard Jody joke, ‘hope he doesn’t try again.’ He stumbled up from the table, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through until he saw the 4am timestamp.

“Castiel? It’s Detective Winchester.”

“Oh, hello detective --”

“Listen, are you at home? Are you somewhere safe?”

“What? Um, no I’m leaving my office right now, I can’t find the book --”

“What if  _ the gold _ means book-learning and intellect?” Dean interrupted. “That’s why you need the elder, cuz they’re the smartest. With Ronnie gone, you’d be next on someone’s list.”

“I was thinking along those same lines detective, unfortunately I just realized the book I need is one I loaned out to a student a few weeks ago. I called him and he’s on his way over now to deliver it.”

Dean’s blood ran cold. “Is that student Timothy Zidon?”

“Yes, why --. Oh, hello,” Castiel seemed to be talking to someone next to him. “Wait, what are you, stop, help, --.” 

“Castiel? Castiel? Professor?” the line went dead. Dean turned to Jody. “We need to get someone over the to university right away. Our killer came back for the professor.”

Jody nodded, pulling out her own phone and calling the station. “Where would he go, Dean?” she asked. “If he took your professor friend, where would they be?”

Dean thought for a moment. The woods. “Right where we found Ronnie Dermer’s body. In the forest off the interstate.”

“Go. I’ll call it in and catch up with you.” 

Dean was out the door and into the Impala before he realized that Sam had followed him and was sliding easily into the passenger seat. 

“Sammy --”

“I’m coming with you man. Don’t waste time arguing.”

Dean shot off of the driveway and headed for the forest. He hoped it wasn’t too late. He redialed Castiel’s number. “Come on, come on. Damn it, come on.” 

Sam glanced over a few times before finally saying something. “Dean, you ok?”

“What?”

“It’s just, you seem really concerned about this professor.”

“And?”

Sam shrugged. “I dunno, you just don’t usually get this attached to people. Is there something --”

“Sam, he’s this weird little nerdy guy, ok, he doesn’t strike me as the fighting type. He’s like the absent minded genius who forgets to eat dinner unless his daughter reminds him --. Shit. He has a kid --”

Sam pulled out his phone. “I’ll ask Eileen to go over there. She can keep an eye on the kid and also kick the crap outta anyone who tries to cause trouble.”

“Great, his daughter’s name is Claire, she’s 16.” Dean clicked on Charlie’s name next in his phone. “Charlie? Meet me back in the woods where we found the first victim. I think the killer kidnapped the professor and is on his way there now.”

“On my way.” 

Dean tried to focus on the road ahead. He turned off at the entrance to the forest, where two squad cars had already pulled up. He and Sam checked their guns and got out to join the officers.

“Hello detective,” one of the officers, a blonde woman named Donna greeted. “There’s another car here, we ran the plates, it’s registered to a Castiel Novak.”

“The professor,” Dean interjected. “Ok, that nutjob definitely brought him out here. This is my brother Sam, he’s FBI and was with me when I got the call.”

“Hello Sam!” Donna said happily. “Pleased to meet you. Oh, and detective, they’re running a trace on the professor’s phone. I’ll you know once they find it.”

Charlie’s little yellow car pulled up to join them. Her usual playful demeanor was replaced by a stone cold seriousness Dean only saw on cases or when LARPing. Anyone who thought Charlie couldn’t handle her own had never seen her chase down and tackle murderer’s twice her size and arrest them.

“Going theory is that the killer is Timothy Zidon, another university student,” Dean told everyone. “He and our first victim were studying ancient religions and cultic magic, and Zidon got carried away. Tried to do an actual blood sacrifice to gain the knowledge of his friend. But he screwed up because he carved the runes post-mortem, and in the bizarro earth where this stuff would actually work, he has to carve them before killing the victim. We think he’ll return to the site of the first murder to do it. And this time he’s upped his game and is trying to kill the professor. The good news for us is that there’s a lot of symbols, so Novak should still be alive. Questions? Good. Let’s go.”

Dean clicked on his flashlight and led the way down along the path. Ronnie Dermer’s body had been found by a jogger about a mile into the woods. Time was ticking.

Sam came up alongside him. “Eileen texted me. She’s with the daughter, who’s fine.”

“Good.” 

A few moments later Dean led them all off into the underbrush, another hundred feet and they’d be at the tree … shouldn’t they be able to hear Zidon? Or presumably the professor either screaming or struggling?

“Dean,” Charlie called from up ahead. She was standing at the base of the tree where Ronnie had been found. “There’s nothing here.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dean said quietly.

“Detective,” Donna said. “Dispatch says the phone pinged in this park. So the victim somewhere out here.”

“The professor said the ritual has to be done under a tree with several trunks,”  Charlie said. 

“Good. Ok, everyone spread out,” Dean said. 

The search began. And Dean tried not to think about having to tell the daughter her father, who had probably never even shoplifted, was murdered. Or think about what would happen to her -- it seemed like Castiel was a single parent, where would the kid go? He also didn’t want to think about the pain of having someone carve letters into your skin, which was probably the only thing keeping the professor alive right now.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice called off to the right. Dean turned and headed towards him. Charlie joined them a moment later from Sam’s other side. Up ahead they could see the dim light of an old lantern and figure moving around. 

The three of them slowed down, Dean and Charlie fanning out to the sides to cut off his escape. They could see Castiel bound at the bottom of the tree, his shirt open and blood covering his arms, he was struggling against the ropes and the duct tape on his mouth. Zidon, dressed in a black robe, was leaning over him, a silver dagger in his hand.

Dean, Charlie and Sam charged in. Zidon avoided Dean’s grab for him, only to find himself face to face with Charlie, who knocked him to the ground. Sam ripped off the tape and started undoing the ropes on Castiel. 

Zidon grabbed Charlie’s leg and yanked her down with him, Dean pulled him off, and Charlie stumbled to her feet.

“Wow, you must be the worst cultist ever,” Dean said. “You’ve screwed up this ritual twice. Maybe you shoulda paid more attention in class.” He reached down to cuff Zidon, but the killer’s next words made him pause. 

“As long as one person dies detective, it doesn’t really have to be the professor, blood must be spilt.”

“Dean --,” said Charlie weakly. She was holding her stomach awkwardly. No, strike that, she was holding the blade in her stomach weakly. Zidon must have stabbed her during their struggle. 

Dean froze. He couldn’t --. Zidon threw his shoulder back into Dean’s face, startling him enough to get free. He took off, heading deeper into the woods. Dean rushed to help Charlie, but before he got there she yanked the knife from her gut and with precision threw it towards Zidon, who collapsed. 

“Charlie?”

She grinned weakly. “‘tis but a flesh wound,” she joked. “Go cuff him, I’m good.”

Donna and the other two officers showed up a few moment’s later. Sam was doing his best to stop the bleeding on Castiel’s arms. The professor didn’t seem to be in any real danger, just terrified from the whole kidnap and torture thing. Charlie had balled up her plaid overshirt and used it to slow the bleeding. Jody arrived with the paramedics, and Charlie joked with her that she’d won a VIP ticket to the hospital. 

“We have to take Zidon to get patched up too,” Dean told Jody. “After he stabbed Charlie and tried to get away, she chucked that knife into his leg.”

“I’ll have Donna and Mike guard him. He stabbed a cop, he’s not going anywhere. Can you convince the professor to go the hospital? We need to get that ambulance on the road and he’s trying to go home.” Jody headed off to deal with that and Dean climbed into the ambulance with Charlie and Castiel. 

“Hey professor, how you feeling?” 

“The paramedics said they want me to go to the hospital but I have to get home, Claire will be back soon and has no idea --”

“Hey, slow down. Sam already sent an agent over to check on Claire, ok?” Dean said gently. “You had a lunatic cut on you with a knife that’s been god knows where. You gotta go get checked out. I can ask the agent to bring Claire to the hospital if you want.”

“Ok,” Castiel nodded. 

“Great.” Dean motioned to the paramedics. “Let’s go then. How you holding up, Charlie?”

The ginger flashed him a thumbs up. “I’m not allowed to move, that hot brunette EMT girl said if I tried to sit up again she’d restrain me.”

Dean shook his head.  _ Same old Charlie. _ “I don’t think she meant like that, Charlie.”

“Thank you, both,” Castiel said. “I am sorry you were injured, detective.”

Charlie shrugged and then winced in pain.

“Jokes on the idiot who thought stabbing Charlie would actually kill her,” Dean joked, trying to keep the mood light. “She’s a hell of a lot tougher than that.”

Once they got to the hospital Dean refused to leave Charlie’s side. He even nicked the chart from her doctor in order to double check they were telling her everything. Jody couldn’t even get him to go home and rest, eventually she gave up. When the doctors kicked him out so they could finish stitching her up, he headed over to Castiel’s room to check on the professor. Eileen and Sam was loitering outside the room.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. “How’s he doing?”

“Doctor said they’d need to patch him up, but then he can go home,” Sam said. “Eileen brought his daughter over, she’s in there now.”

Dean turned to Eileen. “Thank you,” he signed. “Really.”

Eileen shrugged. “No problem. I might have accidentally recruited her for the FBI though, she’s pretty cool.”

“Ha, won’t her dad love that. Well, I’m gonna go check on the professor.” Dean knocked lightly on the door and peeked his head in. “Hello? It’s Dean.”

“Come in,” Castiel called. He was laying in the hospital bed, a young blonde woman sitting next to him. She wearing ripped kneed black jeans, and a dark leather jacket; her hair was loose, with some wild braids holding it out of her face. 

“Hi,” Dean greeted, “I’m detective Dean Winchester. You must be Claire?”

“Hey,” Claire greeted. 

“Do you mind if I talk to your dad for a few minutes?”

“The police captain already came and took a statement,” Claire said, suddenly defensive. “Uh, Jody something. She was cool.”

“I know, I’m not officially working this --”

“It’s ok,” Castiel said. “Claire, can you give us a moment?”

Claire looked grumpy about it, but she exited. 

“Hey you feeling, Castiel?” Dean asked, sitting down in the now vacant chair. “You ok?”

Castiel shook his head. “No.” 

Dean waited a moment in the awkward silence, but Castiel didn’t say anything else. “You wanna elaborate?”

“Everything hurts. One of my own students attacked me, tied me to a tree, and tried to carve an ancient spell into me in hopes of gaining my intellect; my daughter has to see me in a hospital bed getting blood pumped back into me, the doctor said I might have scars on my arms forever; your partner got stabbed and almost died trying to rescue me. How is she, by the way?”

“Charlie? She’s gonna be ok. They’re stitching her up right now and are gonna keep her overnight, but the knife didn’t hit any vital organs, she’s fine, I promise.”

Castiel nodded but didn’t say anything. 

“I’m sorry your daughter had to see you like this, but she seems to be ok.”

“Neither of us really like hospitals,” Castiel said. “We spent too much time in them many years ago.”

“Is there anyone who can come stay with you two while you recover?” Dean asked. “A friend, a family member, I dunno, an ex you’re still awkwardly friends with?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, it’s just the two of us. I appreciate your concern detective, but we’ll be ok.”

“Ok. I’ll have someone give you a ride home and park outside tonight in case you need anything.” Dean got up and headed for the door. “I’ll come around to ask you followup questions, ok?”

Castiel nodded.

Dean headed back to Charlie’s room, where Jody was talking with Donna. “You talked to my witness without me?” Dean asked, more annoyed than he should be.

Jody raised her eyebrows at him. “First of all, I’m going to ignore your tone since I know tonight was stressful. Second, yes, I needed to take his statement while everything was fresh in his mind. And I thought it was better to let you be with your partner who was stabbed.”

Dean put up his hands. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, captain.”

“Good, now that’s sorted out. They’re almost done patching up Zidon and then Donna is taking him back to the station. You’ll need to question him, but this case is pretty open and shut at this point. Between Castiel’s witness testimony and Zidon stabbing Charlie, he’s going away for awhile.”

“We might not have enough to charge him for Ronnie Dermer’s murder though,” Dean said. “Maybe once we get the forensics back -- “

“Go home,” Jody interrupted. She waved at someone behind him. Sam came over to join them. “Sam, take your brother home. Make sure he actually sleeps instead of staying up all night obsessing over the case.”

“Jody, I’m fine --”

“Now, Dean. Don’t make me use my mom-voice,” Jody said. “You’re useless to me if you’re exhausted. You can take a go at Zidon in the morning, but for now, go sleep. I got this handled.”

“Charlie --” 

“Is sedated, and needs to sleep. I’ve got an officer posted here who will call you when she wakes up.”

Dean gave up. There was no winning against Jody. He followed Sam back towards the parking lot. Along the way they bumped into Eileen and Claire who were getting coffee. Eileen was clearly trying Claire a few basic signs, and the blonde woman was a quick study.

“This must be really useful in the field,” Claire said. “You can talk to other agents without your suspect hearing you.” 

“Or in interrogation,” Eileen said.

“Bit us in the ass once though,” Sam admitted.”We had a guy whose mom was deaf and he eavesdropped on us. Hey, I’m gonna drive Dean home, you wanna meet me there?” Sam asked Eileen.

She nodded and signed something about _go on ahead, this kid needs a friend right now_. Sam smiled, kissed her, and dragged his brother to the exit. “Come on, let’s go shoot whiskey and pass out in your livingroom.”

“Detective Winchester,” Claire said. Dean turned back to look at her.  “Thanks for saving my dad.”

Dean smiled and gave her a nod, then followed Sam out to the car. 

“Just like old times, Sammy.” Dean pulled the keys from his jacket pocket, which Sam nabbed right away and slid into the driver’s seat. 

“It’s  _ Sam _ ,” his brother corrected.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean knocked on the Novak’s door in the morning. He’d excused the officer who was keeping watch, everything had been quiet that night. Castiel and Claire had gotten home around 2am, after the doctors were sure he was stable. 

“Hello detective,” Castiel greeted quietly. “Claire’s still asleep,” he explained leading Dean to the livingroom. “But I think now she wants to learn ASL and join the FBI, or become a police detective or captain. Apparently all the women you know are badass.” 

Dean smiled. “Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t know any librarians or coffeeshop owners. How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like I was tortured and almost murdered by a student,” Castiel said drily. 

Dean laughed. “I know Captain Mills took your statement last night at the hospital, but I just need to go over it again. Uh, just walk me through what happened.”

“I was looking for any mention of the spell that was carved into Ronnie’s body, and I figured out it was in a book I’d lent to a student, Timothy Zidon. I called him and asked for him to bring it by, and he said he was in a hurry, could I meet him in the parking lot. I know, I know, not the smartest place to meet someone.”

Dean shrugged. “You had no reason to suspect him, it’s ok.”

“It was stupid, detective, that’s what it was. Finding out the one person who has access to the directions to the ritual is someone who knew the victim and who wants to meet in a dark parking lot. Sounds like the beginning of a bad horror movie.” Castiel sighed. “Anyway, I was a few feet from my car when you called me. And then Timothy showed up, knocked me out, and when I woke up, I was tied up under a tree and he was using that knife to … uh,” Castiel absently rubbed his face, trying to look anywhere but Dean, “to cut the symbols into me. I struggled but … but I uh, I couldn’t get away….”

Dean reached out, and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok, you’re safe now. He’s locked up and can’t hurt you anymore.”

Castiel nodded and continued slowly, “I couldn’t get away, so I tried to just keep moving as much as I could so he couldn’t cut me. I figured since we had been on the phone you’d know something had happened and show up eventually.”

Dean squeezed his shoulder. “I do like to make a dramatic entrance.”

“And then you showed up, and uh, you know it from there.”

Dean nodded. “Ok, anything else you remember? Was Timothy alone? Did he say why he was doing this?”

Castiel sighed deeply. “He was alone. But he seemed to really think this spell thing would work. I, uh, I mean, I teach this stuff, and I understand and respect it within its cultural context, but he actually seemed to believe that by killing Ronnie and me he would gain our intellect and knowledge.”

“Did he confess to killing Ronnie?” Dean asked. “It’s ok if he didn’t, but I need to know if he actually admitted it.”

Castiel thought for a moment. He looked conflicted, and Dean could understand. The guy who killed his student and tried to kill him, who’d tortured him -- there were no other witnesses, if Castiel said he’d confessed, only Timothy could counter him. 

Castiel opened his mouth but Dean interrupted. “Castiel, I need to remind you that answering questions right now is like answering them in court. Please just tell me  _ honestly _ what happened.” Dean met his gaze and they stared at each other. Castiel looked ready to cry but he finally shook his head.

“No, detective, I’m sorry, he kept saying ‘it didn’t work’ or ‘I shoulda known to cut first’, but he never used Ronnie’s name. I’m sorry detective, that’s all I know.”

“It’s ok, it’s only in movies that the bad guys confess to everything to the hero.”

“I’m no hero, detective.”

“Hey,” Dean reached out, tilting Castiel’s chin up. “You stayed alive, you couldn’t really fight, but you kept yourself from becoming that lunatic’s sacrifice. You made it home safe to your daughter, ok?”

Castiel smiled weakly.

Dean cleared his throat and pulled his hand back.  _ What the hell, Winchester? _

“Is Detective Bradbury ok?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, she’s getting released tomorrow. She’s gonna be on medical leave a few days, but she patched up nicely.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too. Alright, if you think of anything else, or you or Claire need anything, please call me, ok?”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean ignored the funny shivers on his skin when Castiel finally used his first name. “I’ve kinda made your life miserable for the last 48 hours,” Dean said, “so I totally understand if you don’t want to see me again.”

Castiel shook his head. “It’s not everyday you meet a guy whose job leads to kidnapping and torture, but I’m still waiting for that guess-you’re-not-a-suspect drink.”

Dean gave him a mock-serious look. “So you think getting yourself kidnapped is gonna get you off the suspect list?”

Castiel raised his eyebrows at the phrase ‘ _ get you off _ ’, and let Dean shift uncomfortably before finally heading out. Dean mentally kicked himself. What was it with this guy?

 

* * * * *

Dean arrived at the station to question Zidon, and was surprised to see Charlie sitting at her desk. “Did you Shawshank your way out of the hospital?”

Charlie grinned. “I plead the Fifth.” 

“We still need this guy to confess to killing Ronnie. You here for the show or you gonna jump in?”

Charlie grabbed the case file from his hands, leading the way to the interrogation room. “I’m a lead fiddle, Winchester, you know that.”

“Ok, I got your back.” He followed her into the room, and tried not to think about how many pain killers the woman must be on in order to walk upright after getting stabbed. 

Zidon sat across the table from them, no lawyer. Dean took a seat and Charlie remained standing, tossing the case file down on the table with a satisfactory  _ thunk _ and then planted her hands on the table, leaning in to face him. Dean was intimidated just looking at her. 

“So, Timothy Zidon. You know, it’s rude not to confess to murder and then stab the people trying to figure out who killed your friend. Also, kidnapping your teacher, classic mistake. You are going away for a long while. We have enough to convict you for Ronnie’s murder too, but you can make it easier on yourself by just coming clean.”

Zidon looked at Dean, then at Charlie, then back at Dean.

“She asked you a question,” Dean said. “I’d answer if I were you.”

Zidon picked up the cup of water on the table in front of him and threw it in Charlie’s face. Both detectives were so surprised it Dean’s brain a moment to catch up and say, “Well, ok, didn’t see that coming.”

“She’s a witch!” Zidon shouted, reaching for the water glass again.

“Ok, Dorothy,” Charlie said, grabbing the glass and carefully putting it out of Zidon’s reach. “Just --”

“I stabbed you with a sacred dagger bathed in the blood of the innocent,” Zidon shouted, his eyes getting wild.

“Blood of the innocent?” Charlie asked. “Whose blood was on there, maybe they weren’t so innocent.”

“Ronnie Dermer’s blood was pure!” Zidon continued. “He was honorable in life, and in death his blood purified the knife I needed for the ritual --”

“So you killed Ronnie,” Charlie prompted. "That was the knife you stabbed him with?"

“Yes!” Zidon said. Charlie motioned to Dean to leave. Zidon continued his ranting about blood and ritual and all that as the detectives exited. 

“Well, that was easy,” Dean commented once they were outside.

“Yeah, I think there’s a screw loose in there,” Charlie agreed. She handed the case file back to Dean. “Here, I uh, gotta go before the captain sees me --”

“Too late,” Jody said from behind her. 

“Good news,” Charlie said brightly. “He confessed.”

“Greattttt,” said Jody sarcastically, “I have an officer waiting to book him and another one waiting to take you home and make sure you stay there until you’re well.”

“And miss out on doing all that paperwork, ok then,” Charlie teased. “Bye Dean.”

“Go get some rest, Charlie,” Dean said. He headed back to his desk and pulled out his phone.

_ You’re officially off the suspect list, _ he texted. 

There was a long pause, and then Castiel replied,  _ drinks tomorrow at 7?  _

_ Name the place and I’ll be there _


	4. Chapter 4

Dean accidentally got to the bar ten minutes early, and tried to pass the time by checking his phone or reading the news or texting Charlie to make sure she was doing ok. 

“You nervous ‘bout something?” the woman behind the bar asked.

“Uh, no, I’m uh…”

“First date?” she guessed. “You got that look about you. Like you’re not sure if your girl is gonna show, and you got here early, which means you’re definitely into her --”

“Him,” Dean corrected.

“Him, sorry ‘bout that,” the woman corrected. “Handsome fellow like you? I’m sure he’ll show.”

“Thanks,” Dean smiled. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Ellen Harvelle.” She reached across the bar and shook his hand. 

“Harvelle, like the name of this place?”

“I’m the owner.”

“Mighty fine establishment you got here, mamn.”

Ellen smiled. “Well, seems your mother raised you right.” Dean hid grimace and tried to smile. “Tell you what, I got a free booth over there, why don’t you go park it and I’ll send your date over when  _ he _ gets here.”

“Thanks, his name is Castiel. He’s uh, yay high, trenchcoat, sensible shoes.”

Ellen smirked. “Yeah, ok officer, I’ll bring him right over.”

Dean couldn’t think of a witty response before she led the way to a booth in the corner. “It’s a little quieter back here, you’ll actually be able to hear each other.”

Castiel arrived a few minutes later. He was in fact wearing that tan trenchcoat. Dean smiled to himself. He sat down across from Dean but looked rather nervous.

“Uh, hi.”

“Hey Cas, wanna take your coat off, stay awhile?” Dean joked. 

Castiel smiled. “I’m sorry, I haven’t … uh, it’s been… I haven’t been a date in a long time, Dean. My people skills are rusty.”

“All good man, just, relax. I’m generally a nice person unless I’m arresting you for homicide, and even then, I’m still a gentleman. How you feeling, by the way?”

“Better. My arms still hurt a bit, but I’m managing. Claire has been very helpful, and I’ve taken a few days off work. Thank you, um, for checking on her that night, it was very thoughtful.”

“Of course.” Wow, this was awkward. Dean had been on date before, and this was never a good sign.

“Hey boys,” Ellen greeted, putting down some beers and bowl of fries. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks Ellen,” Dean said. “So, uh … I’m sorry man, I don’t know why this is so awkward.” Castiel smiled and Dean gained his confidence back. “Ok, tell me about yourself, something I wouldn’t know from running a background check.”

Castiel told him about growing up in rural Maine. His parents weren’t religious, but had named their children after different angels. One of his older brothers, Gabriel had told him a lot of urban legends and ghost stories as a child, and Castiel had become obsessed, which had led him to later study cultic religions and ancient languages. He’d spent a few years in the Army  (“Oh hey, my dad was a Marine,” Dean told him) and then gotten his doctorate and come here to teach. There was just one thing that didn’t really make sense, but Dean would get back to that.

“What about you, Dean? Who are you?”

“Whoa, big question there professor. Uh, let’s see, I grew up here in Kansas, over in Lawrence. We moved around a bunch when I was a kid. My brother Sam is in the FBI, keeps trying to get me to come join him. And I’ve been a detective for seven years now. Joined the police academy right out of college.”

“And your family? Are they in Kansas?”

Dean looked down at the beer bottle and peeled at the label. “My mom died in a fire when I was a kid. Uh, my aunt Jody kinda stepped in as our mom when I was in college, and she’s the one who got Sammy and me to turn out ok.”

“And your dad?” Castiel asked gently.

Dean shrugged. “My dad was a bit of a mess, but he was a good guy. We moved around a bit, but that’s life. Eventually I ended up here. Jody is the captain of the police force here, you met her at the hospital. She was a detective when I first joined, I dunno she inspired me or something. And probably had some effect on Sam joined the Feds too.” Dean took a drink and then tried to redirect the conversation. “Can I ask you something, and tell me if it’s too personal.”

Castiel met his gaze and said in a low voice, “Yes detective, ask me anything.”

Dean took a breath and tried to remember his name. “Claire.” Castiel moved his hand back from Dean’s, his posture becoming more closed off. 

“Claire is … complicated. It’s a long story, Dean. Not the best for today.”

“Ok, sorry, my bad.”

“It’s alright. Another time.”

The conversation was lighter after that, each of them talking more about their jobs, embarrassing childhood stories, normal first date banter. Three plates of fries, two burgers, and a couple beers later, Dean walked Castiel out to his car. 

“This was fun, Cas, let’s do it again sometime.”

Castiel smiled.

“What?”

“You called me ‘Cas’ again. You did it before --”

“Oh, sorry --”

“No, I like it.”

Dean blushed. 

Castiel took a step closer. “When can I see you again?” Dean’s blush deepened, and he seemed to have forgotten the entire English language. “Same time next week?”

“Uh, yeah, or sooner, you know um, whatever you want --” Dean babbled.

“I want to kiss you, Dean. If that’s alright.”

Dean pulled Cas in close. “Definitely alright,” he whispered before bringing their lips together. Cas leaned into him, wrapping his arms around Dean’s back, one hand on the back of his neck. Dean pivoted, leaning back against Cas’s car, Cas leaning all his weight against Dean and kissing his harder. Dean’s hands slipped inside Cas’s coat, running along his back hips and lower back, he could feel the shivers running through the other man. 

When they finally broke apart Dean was breathing heavily. “I have to get home,” Cas said quietly. 

Dean nodded. “Ok, yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas kissed him again. “I’d love to stay here and continue kissing you instead.”

Dean shook his head. “No no, you gotta get back to your kid. It’s a school night after all.” He kept one hand on Castiel’s arm as the other man pulled back. “But maybe this weekend if you’re free…”

“I’ll check tomorrow and call you,” Cas said. He finally pulled himself away from Dean and got in his car. “Good night, Dean.”

“‘night, Cas.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally adding the SMUT.  
> Also some domestic fluff and a just a bit of angst.  
> More Sam / Eileen as well, being the best couple ever.

The next few weeks passed by relatively normally. Charlie was finally able to come back to work, although Jody used her Mom-Voice to remind her to take it easy and not tackle any criminals in the next few days. Dean and Cas went out a few more times, each date ending up in another makeout session, including one in the back of the Impala that made Dean feel like a giddy teenager all over again.

Tonight Dean was cooking dinner for them both and Cas arrived right on time to the sounds of AC/DC music and the smell of fresh pasta. Dean on the other hand had totally lost track of time and forgotten to change his clothes, so he came to the door wearing faded jeans and a plain gray tshirt that fit a little snugly around his arms. 

“Hey Cas, come on in. Uh…” Dean looked at the other man, who had on darkwash jeans, a button down and a sweater, and a immediately realized his mistake. “I am so sorry, I was cooking and totally forgot to change --”

Cas stepped inside and pulled Dean close. “You look fine, Dean.” He leaned in to kiss the other man, his lips soft and warm. “Unless you’re offering to take your shirt off for me,” he whispered into Dean’s ear.

Dean kissed him again. “Plenty of time for that later.” He pulled back, keeping a hand on Cas and leading him towards the kitchen. “I can give you the grand tour, if you want. This is the living room, uh, pretty normal, this is a closet, so’s this,” he motioned at the doors in the hallway. “Kitchen here. I knocked out this wall to make the bar here so the kitchen isn’t so isolated, um, bathroom is that next door and my bedroom is at the end of the hall. Guest bedroom over there, Sammy used to stay there until he moved to town. Make yourself at home, I’m just finishing up dinner.” 

“Your place is wonderful,” Castiel commented. He kicked off his shoes by the door and set to exploring the living room, starting with Dean’s record collection. 

“Thanks. So what’s Claire up to tonight?” Dean asked.

Since Claire was a sixteen, Castiel could leave her alone for a few hours, but in general he tried to be home by nine or ten. He was hesitant about Dean and Claire spending time together, particularly while they were in the early stages of this relationship -- Castiel was worried what would happen to Claire if she got attached and it didn’t work out. 

“Uh, she’s with some friends. Doing, I don’t know, whatever kids do on a Friday night. Mini-golf?”

Dean laughed. “Hey, don’t knock it, I love mini-golf. So, when’s your curfew?”

Cas smiled at him sheepishly. 

“What?” 

“Uh, don’t take this the wrong way.” Cas came around into the kitchen to join Dean, who was currently tasting the pasta sauce. Dean offered him a taste and Cas licked it off the spoon without breaking eye contact.

That image was going to stay with him awhile. “Cas? Don’t take what the wrong way?”

“I’m not trying to imply, I mean, I don’t want you to think that I expect, or to --”

“Out with it.”

“Ok, it’s just, Claire called me while I was driving over and asked if she could stay the night at her friend Krissy’s house.” 

Dean smirked. “And uh, did Claire know what you were doing tonight?”

“I mean, she knew I was coming here for dinner, but --”

“Wow, man, your daughter pulled a fast one on you,” Dean said, carrying the food to the kitchen table.

“What?” Cas looked confused. “Dean, what are you saying?”

Dean came back, leaning his arms against the counter, trapping Cas between them. “I’m saying,” Dean said, his face inches from Cas’s, “that Claire is trying to play matchmaker.”

“You think my sixteen-year-old daughter asked her friend if she could spent the night so that I could have unlimited time with you this evening?” Cas asked. “Oh, alright, that does make sense.”

Dean laughed, kissing Cas playfully on the lips, and working his way down his neck. “So, no curfew, huh? I like the sound of that.”

After dinner, during which Dean sheepishly accepted Cas’s praise of his cooking, Cas helped him clean up. Dean came up behind him while he washed dishes and planted kisses on his neck. Cas smiled and leaned back against Dean. “You’re very distracting,” Cas commented. 

Dean shut off the water, and spun Castiel around to face him. 

“Dean, my hands are wet and soapy, just --”

Dean cut him off with a kiss, which Cas happily returned. Dean reached behind him to grab a towel, which he handed to Cas. Once Cas’s hands were dry, he slipped them under Dean’s shirt, slipping it up over his head.

“Finally got my shirt off,” Dean teased. “But now you’re wearing too many clothes.” 

Cas smiled darkly at him. “Whatchya gonna do about it?” 

Dean took his hand and led him down the hallway. He thought he felt Cas hesitate a moment so he paused. “Cas? We don’t have to --. I mean, I would love to get you into my bed, but if you’re not ready --”

Cas pushed him against the hallway wall, peppering his now exposed chest with kisses and small bites that made Dean bite back a groan. “Yes, Dean, I want this, I want you.” 

Dean nodded. He pulled off Cas’s sweater. Without breaking their kiss he tried to guide them back to the bedroom, but they kept stumbling until they just gave up and walked like normal people. Dean reached down, undoing the buttons of Cas’s shirt, he could feel himself getting hard and a quick glance told him Cas was too. He pulled the shirt off and his eye caught sight of the scars on Cas’s arms. 

Cas followed his gaze and then looked away. “I, uh, I guess I should have warned you --”

“Hey, hey, no,” Dean tilted his face back forwards him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, I just, I was just surprised.” Cas looked away again. The moment was gone, or at least on hold. Dean sat down on the bed and pulled Cas down beside him. “For a moment I got caught up in the whole about-to-get-laid-by-a-super-hot-guy and totally forgot that some lunatic tried to --. Cas, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s ok --”

“Here,” Dean turned so Cas could see the back of his shoulder. “See this scar, I got this breaking up a bar fight my first week on the force.”

“Dean, there’s nothing there.”

“Yes there is,” Dean insisted. “It’s like, a centimeter, ok, but it’s there. Battle wound.”

Cas smiled shyly. 

“Or, uh, here,” Dean held out his arm. “Now, you can’t see this one unless you secretly have x-ray vision, which would clearly be awesome, but I broke my arm several times as a kid and there are multiple scars on the bone.”

“You should have been more careful,” Cas commented.

“Yeah well… live and learn I guess.” Dean realized belatedly that that lie about his arm was probably come back to bite him in the ass one day, but oh well. He gently picked up Cas’s scarred arm and brought it to his lips. “I’m sorry you got injured that day,” he said quietly. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s alright,” Cas said. “Sorry, I totally killed the mood in here.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Dean placed another kiss on his arm, and another, kissing his way up Cas’s arm to his shoulder and then his neck. “You want me to keep going?”

Cas nodded. “Yes,” he breathed.

Dean repositioned himself so he was behind Cas, tracing his fingers along Cas’s skin, kissing his way from his neck down along each arm. Cas turned his head so he could kiss him. Dean guided him to lay down on the bed and climbed on top of him. 

“I probably shouldn’t tell you how long I’ve been picturing this,” Cas said as Dean kissed down along his stomach.

Dean bit him lightly. “It’s illegal to lie to a cop, you know,” he mumbled between kisses. “It’ll go easier if you just tell me the truth,  _ Professor _ .”

Cas reached down and grasped Dean’s hair lightly as Dean continued his way down. “Hard to say for certain, but probably since that first day in my office.”

Dean nipped at him again. “Yeah, you got any proof of that?”

“Well, I did basically throw myself at you.”

“From behind a desk.”

“I’m classy like that ---.” Cas’s voice cut off. Dean had reached his waistband and was unzipping his pants. Dean glanced up at Cas who nodded. 

Dean helped him shimmy out of his pants, his hands tracing their way up Cas’s thighs, his tongue teasing the head of Cas’s dick. 

Cas moaned as Dean took him in his mouth, his hands gripping the sheets below him. Dean took that as an encouragement to continue, hollowing out his cheeks and swirling his tongue. 

“Dean, oh, god, you’re so good. Please, I want …”

“You want what baby?” Dean whispered before returning his mouth to Cas.

“I want …” Cas’s breathing was heavy, “to ...fuck you.”

Dean’s already aroused body responded to that announcement. He reached down to undo his own pants, his dick already hard from what they’d done so far. He opened the bedside table and grabbed lube and a condom. 

Cas shifted on the bed, roughly shoving Dean down and straddling him. He reached down and teased Dean’s dick with his hand before putting the condom on himself and leaning down to kiss him again. He leaned down, sucking on Dean who arched his back and groaned at Cas’s ministrations. Cas’s hands were soft, his mouth was gentle, and Dean’s whole body felt war, under his touch.

Cas kissed his way up Dean’s chest, sucking light marks into his skin. His hand traced down Dean’s body, sending jolts of excitement through his as Cas’s hand reach his hole. 

“May I?” Cas asked quietly.

“Yes,” Dean breathed out. He wanted Cas, he wanted his touch, his dick, his mouth, he wanted everything about the other man. He kissed Cas hard before leaning back to give him better access. 

“Relax,” Cas purred in his ear, one finger gently pushing inside.

Dean nodded and took a deep breath. He hadn’t been with a guy in awhile, but it’s not exactly you forget how to have sex. “Just, go slow, ok?”

Cas nodded. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

Dean’s breath caught as Cas added another finger and gently started to open him up. He ran his fingers through Cas’s thick dark hair, his other hand resting gently on Cas’s arm, helping set the pace of his thrusts.

“Can I keep going?” Cas asked, when Dean nodded he added a third finger.

“Fuckkkkk, Cas fuck me baby, please.”

“Soon,” Cas kissed him hard, his hand continuing to work. A few breaths later he pulled his hand back and as he pushed into him, Dean bit down into Cas’s shoulder. After a moment Cas slowly starting thrusting into him. 

“Cas, god, oh Cas,” Dean groaned. One hand grabbed the bedsheets, the other pulled Cas closer, closer. Cas used one hand to balance himself and the other reached down to stroke Dean. 

“Harder,” Dean told him, and Cas was happy to oblige, sheathing himself even deeper into the other man, their moans mixing together. Again and again Cas hit that spot inside that felt so good, while his hand pumped Dean in time with his own rhythm. 

“Yes, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Dean moaned quietly. 

Cas slowed down, much to Dean’s dismay, but his hand continued to stroke Dean and he arched his hips up into Cas’s hand. Dean could feel the warm surge building in his body, His breathing was ragged, and his hands gripped the sheets as Cas sent jolts of electricity through him. Cas moaned deeply as he thrust into him, his pace finally quickening, and his hand pumping harder on Dean. Dean felt himself at the edge. 

“Cas, Cas, Casss,” Dean came hard on his hand, Cas continuing to stroke him through his orgasm. “Keep moving, please,” Dean said weakly, and Cas thrust into him again, this time increasing his speed and riding Dean hard. Dean’s eyes were swimming with spots, he wasn’t really sure he knew his own name anymore, all he could see was the beautiful man above him making him feel everything. 

Moaning Dean’s name, Cas’s whole body trembled as he came. He slowly pulled out, collapsing next to him. Dean rolled to the side, laying his head on Cas’s chest. His whole body felt like jello, he wasn’t moving off this angel anytime soon.

“Dean?” Cas said gently, rubbing his shoulder. 

“Huh?”

“You drifted off.”

“Oh, sorry Cas, I just, you made me feel so --”

“No no, it’s ok,” Cas said quietly. “I’m sorry to wake you up, but I wanted to double check that I could stay here tonight? It’s ok if you don’t want me to, just --”

Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Cas. “Please stay, Castiel.”

“Ok, I will. Go back to sleep Dean.”

“Mhm,” Dean murmured contently into Cas’s chest.

Castiel carded his fingers through Dean’s hair, and kissed him on the forehead, which seemed somehow more intimate than everything else they’d just done. “You make me very happy, Dean,” he whispered.

Dean hugged him a little tighter and Cas drifted off to sleep. 

 

* * * * *

“Good morning sunshine,” Dean murmured, kissing Castiel’s neck softly. They’d rolled over sometime during the night and Dean was now spooning Cas, their bodies pressed closely together.

“Hi,” Castiel said quietly, nestling himself more comfortably against Dean. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight,” Dean said. “Which is sleeping late for me. Want some breakfast? Coffee?”

“I kinda wanna just lay here,” Cas said. “But coffee and breakfast are probably a good idea.”

“Ok, stay here,” Dean said. He rolled out of bed and gently tucked the blankets back around Cas. After a quick stop at the bathroom he switched on the coffeemaker. A few minutes later he had bacon, eggs and toast, ( _ wow dude, could you be more domestically cliche? _ ) ready for breakfast. Still no sign of Cas though. 

Dean headed back towards the bedroom and found that Cas had nestled further into the blankets. Dean laid down next to him, pulling the quilt back a bit until he found Cas’s head.

“Cas, there’s breakfast.”

Cas didn’t move. “Are you trying to bribe me with food?”

Dean smiled and kissed the top of his head. “Maybe, is it working?”

Cas rolled over to face Dean, his eyes sleepy and his bedroom hair wild. “A little bit. Although, counteroffer …” He pulled Dean down for a long deep kiss.

“Interesting, tell me more.”

“Is anything going to burn in the kitchen?” Cas asked, rolling over further and trying awkwardly to pull the blanket over Dean.

“No, it’s all in the oven to stay warm. So I’m all yours.” 

Cas’s (still naked) body was warm against Dean’s as he pulled him closer. Dean’s hands roamed over Cas’s perfect body while Cas made quick work of pulling off the boxers and t-shirt Dean had put on and grumbling something about how ‘these are in the way.’ Their legs were tangled and their hands explored as they shared soft kisses that were quickly turning more intense. 

Dean sucked in a breath as Cas wrapped his hand around Dean’s dick. Cas smiled lustfully at him and stroked back and forth. He nipped at Dean’s neck and chest, and then bit down hard, sucking a mark right by his heart. Dean bit back a moan at the glorious pain. 

Cas reached across to the bedside table and added some lube to his hand, pumping Dean’s dick harder now. Dean could feel the warmth building in his stomach and put a hand on Cas’s wrist to slow him down. His other hand went for Cas’s dick, while peppering him with more kisses. Cas pushed himself closer to Dean, revelling in his touch. He closed his eyes and let Dean take them both in hand, while he kissed Cas’s neck. Their breathing was heavy and ragged as they both got closer. 

“Dean, keeping going, please,” Cas groaned. 

“You like that?” Dean said, picking up speed and then slowly agonizingly down. Cas whimpered. Dean pinched his nipples and twisted gently, just enough to cause Cas to thrust harder into his hand. Cas moaned again, and Dean stroked them both harder, he could feel himself getting close and he wanted Cas there with him. He stroked his thumb over Cas’s slit, and was repaid by Cas grabbing at his arm, the sheets, and anything else he could reach.

“Dean, please, I, yes.” Cas’s words weren’t really intelligible.

Dean pumped his hand harder and faster, he felt himself tipping over the edge. He moaned as he came, and Cas followed him a moment later. Dean rode them both through the aftershocks and placed a satisfied kiss on Cas’s lips. 

“Where have you been all my life?” Cas joked, his words a little slurred in post-sex bliss.

Dean smiled. “Aren’t you glad I once suspected you of murder?”

“It really has turned out well,” Cas agreed. They lay tangled together for another moment before Cas said, “So, didn’t you come in here to tell me about breakfast? Did you forget or something?”

“No, no breakfast, you must have imagined that. There’s a bacon shortage, so breakfast has been cancelled,” Dean deadpanned. Cas playfully punched him in the arm. 

After cleaning themselves up a bit and eating breakfast, Cas took a quick shower before heading home. Claire had texted him that she’d be home soon and he wanted to be home to do the dad-routine of asking too many questions and badgering her about her homework. Dean knew Cas was still waiting to introduce them more formally (since they’d already met in the hospital) and he was happy to wait as long as Cas wanted. 

And not just about Claire, Dean realized later as he washed up the dishes from breakfast. He would literally do anything for Cas. They hadn’t been dating that long and yet something felt right about it. He couldn’t explain it, he just wanted to be around Cas all the time. They were texting almost constantly, and …. Shit. He was falling in love with this guy. 

 

* * * * *

Sam was already at the bar when he got there. 

“Hey man,” Dean greeted. He waved to the bartender and ordered a beer. “You call me because you’re finally gonna cut your hair?”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, you wish. No, I uh, wanted to run a case by you. But if you brought scissors --”

“Wait seriously?” 

Sam pulled out his classic active bitch-face. “Dude, come on.”

“Ok, what about this case?”

Sam handed him a folder. “I’m working a smuggling case and I think one of my suspects might have ties to the guy you arrested a few years ago. If you could read over this and come down to the office tomorrow and go through it, that’d be a huge help.”

“Sure thing. Wouldn’t want to leave my little brother hanging.”

“Thanks.” Sam watched him for a moment.

“And?”

“Dean, come on, you’ve been dating this guy for weeks and said nothing!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “What do you want to know? Can’t you just run a background check on him like a normal person and be done with it.”  
“What makes you think I didn’t?”

“You ran a background check on my boyfriend?” Dean asked, indignant.

“Boyfriend?”

“Wow, real mature Sammy.”

“It’s  _ Sam _ . You haven’t introduced him to us or anything. Come on, is there something wrong with him that you’re keeping it a secret?”

Dean shrugged. “No. Just,  _ personal  _ life. It’s you know, personal.”

“Ok, so what’s he like? He’s a professor, right?”

Dean saw this wasn’t going to end until he coughed up some info. So be it. “Yeah, he’s a professor of ancient languages and religions, he has a teenage kid, and is a great kisser. Anything else you wanna know?”

“Dean, ugh, too much information.”

“You asked.”

“Do you think it’s serious? 

“What is this, the Sharing Circle?”

Sam looked away. Dean knew that look. Something was up.

“Spit it out.”

“You won’t like it.”

“I don’t like this hell you’re making me suffer through.”

“Ok, don’t freak out. But I  _ did _ background check on him.”

Dean wasn’t sure if he was more impressed or more annoyed. “Dude really. Ok, spit it out. You wouldn’t be telling me if you didn’t find something weird. So, what did he do, murder someone?”

“No, there was nothing.”

“Ok, great. Thanks for this weird awkward conversation.”

“No. Dean. I mean there was  _ nothing _ . No parking tickets, no overdue library books, no outstanding medical bills.  _ Nothing _ . He’s too… he’s too clean.”

“Maybe he’s just very organized.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t think Claire is even his real daughter!” 

“Dude, chill. Sam, you and I deal with criminals every day. We’re trained to be suspicious. And god knows Dad didn’t exactly inspire us to be trusting or emotionally healthy. But Cas is not a bad guy, ok? He’s a dorky, weird guy. But he’s not a spy or serial killer or whatever it is you’re worried about.”

Sam looked unconvinced.

That was too far. “Sam, look, I really like this guy ok. Please don’t make it weird by arresting him for  _ not  _ being a criminal. Look, I’ll have you and Eileen and Cas over for dinner and you’ll see he’s totally above board, ok?”

“Will there be burgers?” Sam asked, clearly trying not to smile.

“I. Hate. You.” 

Sam lost it, he laughed so hard there were almost tears.

“You piece of shit,” Dean scoffed, taking another swig of beer.

“Your face is so priceless,” Sam exclaimed. “Dude I didn’t run …”

Someone tapped Dean on the shoulder, and to his complete unsurprise, there was Eileen. “Hi Dean!” she greeted.

“You put him up to this?” Dean asked.

Eileen stole his beer and smiled. “Sam and I bet that you wouldn’t introduce us to him unless you had to exonerate him.”

Sam and Eileen high-fived and continued laughing. 

Dean glared at them. “So, you didn’t actually run a background check?”

“Dude no, that would be weird.” 

Dean grabbed his beer back from Eileen. “You both suck.” His phone buzzed. “Oh hey look, it’s my stalker, serial killer boyfriend. Shut up, both of you. Hey Cas.”

“Hello Dean. I’m sorry to do this, but I have some work stuff that went late. Can we reschedule for another night?”  
“Sure. No problem. Have fun.”

“Well, I sincerely doubt it will be fun, but I will try.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Cas really needed to learn about sarcasm. Or maybe Cas’s sarcasm was so sophisticated Dean wasn’t getting it. 

“Listen, my uh, idiot brother wants to do dinner with us this week. Is Wednesday good?”

“Of course, that sounds wonderful. I’d love to meet your brother. Again, and while I’m not bleeding or in mortal danger. I’ll text you later.”

“Bye, Cas,” Dean said. But Cas had already hung up. Along with sarcasm, he really needed to learn to use the phone. 

 

* * * * *

Dinner was fine. Dinner was normal. There was nothing weird about it. Or at least that’s what Dean kept repeating to himself throughout the evening. It was totally normal to have his FBI brother subtly interrogate Cas while managing to avoid answering any real personal questions about himself.  _ The Winchester way.  _

“I have brothers,” Cas said. “And a sister. A lot of cousins that are around the same age, so we all acted like siblings as children.”

“Sounds nice, having a big family,” Sam said. 

“Oh, I don’t really talk to any of them,” Cas said dismissively.

Sam looked at Dean who tensed up. Cas had talked a little about his family on their first date, but in general he really didn’t bring them up. Just one more thing he was quiet about. 

“How did you two meet?” Cas asked Eileen. Dean had reminded him before dinner to enunciate clearly (“not over enunciate, people do that all the time, and seriously dude she can kick some ass, oh and don’t speak with your mouth full, it’s hard to read lips then”). Cas had then exasperatedly explained to Dean that “regardless if the person is deaf, you still shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” Dean had stolen a kiss and shrugged.

“We met on a case,” Eileen said. “Sam was investigating deaths in a retirement home. I was already there undercover working the case, but there was a paperwork mixup so it was accidentally assigned to both of us.”

“I actually thought she was the killer at first,” Sam admitted.

“That’s love,” Dean commented dryly.

“Well, we can’t all meet by rescuing kidnap victims and averting ancient cultic sacrifices,” Sam joked. Dean shot him a look, he wasn’t sure that Cas was ready to joke about what had happened, but Cas smiled at the joke.

“How did you discover she was an agent?”

Sam glanced at Eileen, who continued the story. “I also thought he was suspicious, so I set a trap for him. I got him to follow me into the laundry room and handcuffed him to a water pipe until he talked.”

“Then we caught the killer together.”

“And they lived happily ever after,” Dean added. 

“I really liked meeting your daughter, Claire,” Eileen said at some point. “She’s very smart and we had a good conversation.”

“Apparently you had an effect on her,” Dean said. “Cas says she wants to become a badass FBI agent like you.”

Eileen smiled. “Not a detective like you?”

“Yeah Dean, you got something against inspiring the youth? Or did Cas forbid you from sharing your gruesome work stories?” Sam teased.

Dean chuckled and ran his hands through his hair, trying to look anywhere but the other people, especially not at Cas. Thankfully Cas changed the topic quickly, offering everyone dessert. He gave Dean a sympathetic look when he got up to go get the pie.

_ Everything ok _ ? Eileen asked.

Dean shrugged.  _ Cas is careful with Claire. We haven’t spent time together, outside the hospital day. _

_ Give it time _ , Sam added.

Dean shrugged again. 

 

* * * * *

Later that night Cas and Dean were snuggled on the couch when Cas brought up dinner.

“Dean, is it weird to you that I’ve kept a boundary between you and Claire?”

Dean sighed. Well, they were gonna have this conversation at some point. “I dunno Cas. A little, I guess.”

“You understand why?”

“Yeah, I think so. You don’t want her to get attached to me, because if we break up you’re worried she’ll be upset too. Either that or you don’t trust me.”

Cas sat up, pushing himself away from Dean so he could look him in the eye. “Dean, of course I trust you. It’s not about that.”

“Ok.”

“Dean.”

“Cas, look, you brought this up.”

Cas didn’t say anything. 

“Either you want to talk about it, or you don’t. But it feels like you’re just looking for validation here. So, I get it, ok? It’s only been two months, it’s not like there’s a rush. I get it.”

“Ok.” 

“I think it’s weird this is the first time I’ve heard about your family,” Dean said. While they were sharing, might as well get it out in the open.

“What about them?” Cas asked. “I didn’t talk about my family.”

“Exactly. You don’t talk to them? Like, at all? And this is the first I’m hearing about it?”

Cas pulled back even further from Dean. “What is there to say, Dean? We don’t get along, we tolerate each other, and it’s better for me being far away from them.  I’m sure there are things about you that I don’t know.” 

“Ask then.”

Cas glared at him. “That’s not what I meant. And by those rules, you didn’t ask about my family, so why are you mad?”  
Dean sighed. “I’m not mad, I just …”

“Dean, it’s not like you’ve told me your life story either? I might not be a detective, but I’ve certainly noticed some things. You don’t talk about your dad, ever. You told me he was a good guy, but that’s it. You talk about your aunt Jody like she’s the only reason you’re alive. I know there’s probably baggage between you and Sam, but I’m not prying into it. If you want me to know, you’ll tell me. And if you have questions about me, why don’t you just ask them?”

“You’re right. I’m not good at sharing, ok? I know that. Sammy knows that. Hell, he basically had to blackmail me into introducing you all.” Cas gave him a curious look. “He pretended that he dug up FBI dirt or something on you until I convinced him that I really like you and I’d put you at the same dinner table to prove you’re not a serial killer. It was a prank, it was the same dumb shit we’ve done all our lives. Hell, he even claimed that  Claire wasn’t your daughter, you know, dumb stuff.”

Cas stared at him for a long moment. Finally he said quietly, “Claire isn’t my daughter.”

Dean looked up him, their eyes meeting. “On our first date you mentioned that Claire was complicated. Cas? You said if I had questions…”

“What do you want to know?”

“It’s just, you’re pretty young to have a daughter in high school., So were you married, or high school sweethearts --?” he let the question hang in the air. “Sorry, is that --”

“No it’s fine.” Cas took a deep breath and leaned back on the couch. “I had a twin brother, and we were both in the Army. He was in combat and I was a medic. His name was Jimmy. He was a good guy, but he had his trouble. When we got back from combat he’d changed, he couldn’t hold himself together, and he tried to get help, but he … Anyway. He vanished one night, without a trace, no one could find him. My family tried, but he was gone, no one could find him. His wife Amelia did everything -- filed missing person reports, hired a PI, even did some of her own investigating. Eventually she also went missing looking for him. I came by one day to check on her, only to find their twelve-year old daughter home, alone. She had been there for days, but her mom had told her not to tell anyone, that she’d be home in a few days with Jimmy.”

“Claire?”

Castiel nodded. “I called the police. I offered to stay at their house so Claire didn’t have to be put in foster care while they looked for Amelia.” He took a breath. Dean reached out and squeezed his arm. “They found Amelia a few months later. She’d gotten caught up with some bad people, she was … she was dead when they found her.”

“And you adopted Claire?”

“I’m her blood relative, and at that point she’d been living with me for months, and her case worker thought I was good enough to be a father. I had just gotten my doctorate and had several good job offers, my schedule was flexible enough to be home as a parent, and Claire asked me to adopt her. So we moved here and just told everyone she’s my daughter, no details. I think it was hard for her at first, Jimmy and I even look very similar, so for Claire to just adopt me as a father was a struggle. But one day she called me  _ Dad _ and we just both went with it. I love her like my daughter, I was there was she was born. She  _ is _ my daughter. Most people just assume, you know, single-dad, there’s probably some dark story there and it’s best not to ask.”

Dean tentatively reached out a hand and placed it on Cas’s shoulder. “Cas, I… Thanks for telling me.”

“Everyone has left Claire, her dad, her mom. She’s adjusted, she’s dealt with it, but I can’t let anyone else into her life who could hurt her.”

“Ok, I get it. I’m sorry, Cas. Whenever you’re ready.”

Cas nodded. “I… My family is a separate story. I knew for awhile that it wasn’t working, but I kept trying to fix things with them. It just, uh, didn’t work. I’ve made other friends and they’re just as good as family.”

Dean smiled. “Yeah, I get that. Most people Sam and I are close to aren’t our blood kin, but I’d die for any of them.” 

“Like Jody?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, she used to date my dad’s old huntin’ buddy, Bobby, that’s how we met when I was a kid. We used to camp out at Uncle Bobby’s when my dad …” Dean trailed off. Was this really the time to bring all this up?

Cas shifted so that he was closer to Dean and reached out to hold one of his hands, which he gave a comforting squeeze. Dean felt a little better and the story just came pouring out. 

“My dad didn’t handle Mom’s death well. That’s why we moved around. He kept finding a job, showing up drunk or hungover, and then we’d have to move again. I basically raised Sammy. We would go to Uncle Bobby’s and he’d teach us throw a baseball or rebuild a car engine, normal kid stuff. He and Jody split up eventually, I don’t know why, but, uh, anyway. She told us to keep in touch, and always feel welcome to show up at her door in the middle of the night. Bobby passed away a few years later. And then when I was thinking about leaving for college, I showed up on her doorstep, basically losing it. I didn’t think I should go and leave Sammy alone with… with our dad. I asked Jody what to do, and after tearing me a new one for not telling her everything that had happened for the previous decade she got Sammy out of there, I went to college. And, I dunno … I mean, it sucks, and it took a few years til Dad and I could be in the same room again. But we made our peace before he died a few years back.” 

That was … most of the story, at least. Cas held his hand and waited quietly. If he knew there was more that Dean wasn’t telling him, he didn’t say anything. 

“So, yeah. That’s me. Quite a catch, huh?”

“Dean, whatever anyone else told you, you are an amazing person. You’re kind and strong, and you are more than just the terrible things that happened to you.” Cas leaned over and kissed his temple. “If you ever want to talk about the rest of it, you don’t have to be afraid.”

Dean looked up at that. He stared for a long moment at Cas and saw understanding and compassion. “Not tonight,” he whispered as Cas put his arms around him. 

 

The next few weeks continued on in a happy rhythm. As Cas’s semester was finishing up he had more meetings with students and papers to grade, but they still carved out time to be together, including a few nights when Claire stayed at Krissy’s house and Cas was conveniently free. Dean didn’t ask about Claire again, keeping his promise to let Cas decide when he was ready. They went out a few times to Ellen’s bar with Sam and Eileen. 

Life was smooth. Life was good.

A lifetime of shit hitting the fan told Dean that something terrible must be about to happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Act 1. I'm working on the next couple chapters before posting them, so it might take a little while.   
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire ends up at the police station late one night, and Dean can't help but side with her. But Cas has a different take on the situation. 
> 
> TW: mentions of child abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, the next section is finally done!   
> The next few chapters are Act 2, which focuses a little more on Claire and Dean, and how that relationship and issues in Claire's life impact Dean/Cas. 
> 
> TW: Act 2 focuses on getting a kid out of a bad homelife, no actual scenes of violence, but mentions of the abuse.

One late Tuesday night Dean and Charlie were racing to see who could finish their paperwork faster. They had just closed a few cases and were getting prepped for court the next week, so dinner was take-out at their desks while teasing each other about their fortune cookies. There was some kind of commotion by the elevator. Dean glanced over to see what was going on. Two officers were escorting a young woman into the station. 

Dean’s first thought was that she looked like a ninja -- tight black pants, black longsleeve shirt, black beanie that barely contained her long blonde hair. He couldn’t get a good look at her face yet, but from the back she looked relatively young, maybe a teenager or college student. Based on the outfit, he wondered if whatever she had been arrested for was a sorority prank or -- 

She turned and Dean caught sight of her face.

Fuck.

_ Claire _ .

Charlie had also glanced up. “Dude, we caught a ninja --”

Well, to be fair, this is why he and Charlie were friends. 

“Dean, you ok? You look like … well, you’d actually probably be pretty excited to see a ghost so --”

“That’s Cas’s kid,” Dean murmured.

“WHAT?”

Dean threw her a danger look. “Keep it down. I said, that’s Cas’s kid. That’s Claire.”

Charlie’s expression changed immediately. “Blarg. What are you  --”

“Don’t say  _ anything _ about this to  _ anyone _ ,” Dean warned her. 

“Ok, just make good --”

Too late. Dean was up and moving. He had no idea what he was gonna do. His movement caught Claire’s eye and by her expression, she definitely recognized him. She looked mostly pissed off, a little defeated, but now seeing Dean, she also looked a little scared. There was something about this kid though, maybe it was because she was Cas’s kid. Maybe it was because she seemed as defiant and rebellious as Dean. Something made him believe that whatever she’d done to get arrested was maybe ok. Or at least a misunderstanding. 

Dean locked eyes with her and shook his head a fraction. She looked away and followed the officer to the interrogation room. Dean waited til the officer emerged and then approached him.

“Hey, who’s the kid you just brought in?”

“No idea,” the officer said, clearly annoyed. “She’s taking her right to remain silent seriously. She hasn’t spoken a words since we caught her. Not even sure she speaks English.”

“Caught her where?”

Claire was a teenager, and she had some rough shit in her past. Dean assumed that she’d tried to buy booze with a fake ID, or sneak into a club, or based on her clothes maybe she was spray painting graffiti around town, typical teen stuff --

“She’d broken into the County Courthouse and was in the records room.”

Dean was taken aback. That was not what he was expecting. 

“What, like smoking pot in the records room on a dare or something?”

The officer threw him some shade. “No, man. She was in the records room going through old files.”

Yep, definitely not normal teenage stuff.

“And she won’t give you a name? How did you book her?”

“We haven’t yet. She has no ID on her, no keys, nothing that could give any clue --. I’m not even sure how to handle this one.”

“I’ll handle it,” Dean volunteered. The officer looked skeptical, so Dean added, “Dude, I’m hip deep in paperwork and I need a break. Let me take a pass at her and see what I can figure out. You can transfer all the paperwork to my name, you won’t have to deal with her, just, let me do you this favor.”

The office gave him a weird look but finally nodded. “Ok man, but, it’s on you now.”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “Great, yeah, of course. Don’t worry.” He headed for the interrogation room.  _ What the hell did this kid get herself into? _

Claire was pacing back and forth when Dean entered. He’d asked Charlie to make sure no one went into the observation room. He needed answers, and he hoped whatever she’d done was easy enough to let her off with a warning.

“Hey Claire,” Dean greeted, taking a seat and motioning for her to do the same. “You remember me?”  
Claire didn’t say anything.

“It’s ok,” Dean said. “I get why you’re not talking. Pretty smart, actually. You’d be surprised, most criminals I bring in, I offer them a chance to keep their mouths shut and they just keep talking until they implicate themselves or admit to a crime. Their lawyers do a whole song and dance just to have things they blurt out struck from their record.” 

Dean paused, Claire remained silent.

“Smart kid. There are a couple things that can happen right now. I could call your dad, he can come pick you up, and we can sort through all this. You can spend a night in holding, we’ll separate you from everyone else since you’re a minor, and in the morning when Captain Mills gets here I can let her decide what happens. Or, I can let you off with a warning, give you a ride home, and you can tell me exactly why you were breaking into the records room.”

Claire looked up at that last option and Dean smiled.

“See, here’s the thing. You’re a smart kid, I can tell. And no, not just cuz your dad talks about you all the time and has me biased. Because you left your keys and phone at home, right? You’re not carrying ID, and you knew to keep your mouth shut. You planned ahead in case you got caught to keep yourself anonymous. It’s not your fault that you happened to commit a crime in the one precinct where a cop would recognize you. And you broke in on Tuesday night, which means you cased the place first, right? You knew they closed early tonight and open late tomorrow, which is why you knew you had extra time.”

Claire smiled slightly. 

“See, like I said, smart kid. Here’s the thing, Claire. I don’t know why you were there, but you’ve piqued my interest. Now I don’t know if you’re caught up in something bad, or someone is blackmailing and forcing you to break in and steal their records, or what. But I wanna figure it out, so I’m gonna go look at the security tapes of the courthouse and I bet I’ll see you hanging out there, and I’m gonna go back and see what files you were searching for, and figure out what appeal they had. Because I don’t think this was some dumb teenage prank, right? There’s something else going on here.”

Claire nodded a fraction.

“Ok, and if you’re in trouble, if someone has threatened you, or if you need help, I want to help you ok? Look, I know you don’t know me that well, and maybe to you I’m just the loser dating your dad. Maybe I’m the most recent in a string of boyfriends you distrust, but please, trust me here, I’m one of the good guys. Let me help you.”

“You’re the first person my dad has dated in a really long time,” Claire said finally, “but thanks for that insight to your self-image.” Dean laughed. “You were right though, about me being smart. I did all those things you said.” 

Dean nodded and waited for her to keep talking.  

“Look, you actually do seem like a decent guy,” Claire said, “but the thing is, you’re a grownup. And grownups don’t usually believe kids who say they’re getting hurt.”

Dean felt himself tense up. “Who’s hurting you, Claire?” he asked, his tone low and dangerous. 

“Ha, I’d like to see someone try,” Claire said darkly. “No one is hurting me. It’s my … friend, Krissy. Her stepdad gives me the creeps and I’ve been doing some digging and found that he’s been married a few times before, but none of his ex-wives live locally and maybe they changed their names or maybe they’re in hiding, but I can’t find records of them. And I found that he was brought to court about eight years ago, but the online records have been censored and I wanted to see the case file myself. Which is why I broke in.”

“Is he hurting Krissy?”

“I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t have proof. Yet.”

“Claire --”

“Look, there’s bruises on her body, ok, where there shouldn’t be. And she acts different when he’s around. She’s scared of him, but she won’t say anything. Her mom travels for work, so she has be home alone with him. And, I mean, when I’m there, at least he doesn’t. …”

“That’s why you’ve been spending so many nights at her place?” Dean asked, putting it together. “Because when you’re there, he keeps his hands off her?”

“That’s part of it,” Claire said. 

“Has Krissy  _ told _ you, or have you seen --”

“See?!” Claire interrupted, “I told you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Hey, hey. Cool it. I  _ do  _ believe that you care deeply about your friend, I  _ do  _ believe that you have reason to suspect something. But I want to help you, and to do so, I need some kind of proof or witness testimony. This isn’t some vigilante TV show Claire, we don’t just take down bad guys based on a bad feeling, we need evidence.”

Claire looked like she was gonna snap back at him, but then took a breath and said calmly and coldly, “No, she hasn’t said anything directly to me. I’ve seen bruises and marks on her body though.”

“What did she say when you asked her?”

“She has a million excuses --”

“Falling down the stairs, bumping into things, maybe a gym accident?” Dean suggested, absently rubbing his arm.

Claire looked at him in surprise and something changed in her eyes. “Yeah, all those.”

“Does she quickly change the subject, make a joke of it, get annoyed or even hostile when you ask her?”

Claire nodded.

“What’s her stepfather’s name?” Dean asked. “I’m not filing anything official yet, but I can put out some feelers to see if he’s on anyone’s radar. If there’s some other reason we can bring him in even, I can work with that.”

“It’s Victor, uh, Victor Rogers.”

“Ok, I’ll see what I can dig up. Through  _ official _ channels. I need you to hang up your mask for a few days, ok? Let me check into this.”

“Fine.”

“Is there any else you’re not telling me?” Dean asked.

Claire shrugged.

“You sure?”

“Like what?” she bit out.

“Like the fact that Krissy is your girlfriend?”

“How is that relevant --. Wait, how did you --?”

Dean grinned. “Come on, that many times sleeping over at her house? We all pulled that as teenagers. Flying under the heteronormative radar.”

“You gonna tell my dad?” Claire asked.

“No. I told you this was off record, and I’m keeping it that way. But Claire, you should tell your dad. All of it. Don’t try to protect me.”

“He’s gonna mad you didn’t tell him.”

Dean shrugged. “Well, we’ve been happy for two months, seems if we’re gonna have a fight it should be about how I  _ didn’t  _ arrest his daughter for breaking into the courthouse in a quest for justice for her girlfriend. I have a good feeling I can win that.”

Claire smiled. “He really likes you, you know? Seriously, I think you’re really good for him.”

“Thanks. Ok, unless we’re gonna hug this out, I’ll drive you home.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Enough feelings for one night.”

 

*****

 

CAS: I need to talk to you. Please call me immediately.

Dean glanced down at his phone. It had been exactly eight hours since he’d dropped Claire off at home and there was a 6am text message from Cas. Well, that didn’t take long. 

DEAN: You wanna do this by phone or should I drive over there? 

Cas didn’t respond immediately. Dean made coffee, ate some cereal, and got dressed, carrying his phone with him like a teenager waiting for a crush to respond. Still no reply.

DEAN: It’ll be more fun to yell at me in person ;)

DEAN: Ok, tactless on my part, but the question stands

Still no response.

DEAN: Cas. Please just tell me what you want

DEAN: Cas? I’m sorry, ok, can we talk?

Another few minutes passed.

CAS: Please come over here

DEAN: On my way

Dean texted Charlie that he was gonna be late and please cover for him. Charlie texted back a kissing emoji followed by a thumbs up.

“Yeah, I  _ wish _ that’s why I’m gonna be late,” Dean muttered, climbing into the Impala and heading over to Cas’s house. It was only a twenty-minute drive without traffic, during which time Dean played over in his head all the things he might say. Or that Cas might say. 

He liked Cas, he really, really liked Cas. He hoped that last night hadn’t destroyed his chances at this relationship. Being with Cas was amazing. Everything felt wonderful and  _ right _ when they were together. 

Dean loved their lazy Saturday mornings when Cas had slept over and they lay in bed and cuddled or had mindblowing sex, or busy Thursdays when they both had to rush out to work. He loved the feeling of Cas’s body against his in the shower, Cas’s hands massaging his back or running through his hair to wash it. He loved their quiet evenings snuggled up on the couch with a pizza and a chick-flick (that Dean would deny he watched if anyone but Cas asked him). He had kinda hoped that things would keep moving forward, it was the first time in awhile that he’d dated someone he really felt this close to. 

Dean parked in front of Cas’s house. “Here goes,” he muttered to himself, ringing the doorbell. To his surprise, Claire answered the door.

“Oh, good morning,” Dean greeted as she let him in. “You ok?”

Claire nodded. “Yeah, uh, it’s been weird this morning.”

“Should I be worried?” Dean asked quietly.

Claire shrugged. “Seems to be part of your personality, so might as well.” She led the way back to the kitchen. Cas was sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee. He gave Dean a weird look.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Coffee?” Claire asked, pouring herself a cup.

“Sure,” Dean said, glancing between them. She’d been right about it being a weird morning.  “Uh, Cas --”

Cas held up a hand. “Thank you for bringing Claire home last night. And for keeping her out of jail. And for stopping her from getting into further trouble.”

There was a long pause.

“You’re welcome?” Dean said tentatively. He glanced over at Claire who shrugged. “Cas, look, I don’t --”

“This isn’t going to work, Dean,” Cas said quietly. “You’re not a parent. You can’t understand.”

“Dad, wait --” 

“Cas, hang on --”

“No. Listen.” Cas’s voice shut them both up. “I understand why you both made the choices you made. Claire, what you did was reckless and stupid, and could have had a major impact on your future. And Dean, you had my kid at the station for an hour last night and you never once called me --”

“Hey, no,” Dean interrupted. “You wanna have a parent conversation with your daughter, that’s fine, but do not lecture me like I’m your kid too. You wanna be pissed at me, that’s a separate conversation.”

Cas rounded on Dean. “You’re right. Maybe I should spend more time lecturing my daughter on her actions --.” 

“Hell with that,” Claire said. “I’m going to school.”

“Come right home after,” Cas ordered.

“Yeah, whatever.” She grabbed her backpack and stormed out. “Good luck Dean.”

The was a tense moment of silence until Cas said, “I need you to go.”

Dean shook his head. “No, you dragged my ass over here. You wanna fight this out, I’ll fight it out with you. But you said you wanted to talk, so talk.”

Cas fell silent.

“See, I don’t think you want to talk about it. I think you just wanna be pissed and claim some sort of moral high ground. Because you know if you start hashing it out, it makes sense what I did. If you had come down to the station there  _ would _ have been paperwork. Right now it’s just my ass on the line, and I know Jody is gonna side with me on this one. She has a teenage daughter of her own, she gets the whole warning shot thing.”

“You should have called me after you left then --”

“It was Claire’s deal to tell you, not mine.”

“You’re my --”

“Your  _ what _ , Cas? I’m your what? Last night I was the detective who gave a kid a second chance. I’m not Claire’s father, or friend or anything, you’ve made sure of that. This was what, my second time being in a room with her?”

“Dean, I’ve explained --”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t trust me with your kid.”

“I am trying to protect my kid!” Cas yelled at him. “And instead, she’s breaking into government buildings and getting arrested --”

“Do you know  _ why _ she broke in last night? Did she explain that you.”

“Of course she did, but she should have just asked for --”

“For help? Yeah, and who would have believed her? She’s a smart kid, Cas, she knows the system fails sometimes. She knows that people like Krissy slip through because whoever hurts them is too smart to get caught. God, do you know what I… I would have given  _ anything _ when I was that age to have someone give a shit, to have a friend who tried to help me. You don’t realize how amazing your daughter is, because you’re too busy being pissed at her. You understand how smart she is to have put it all together where clearly all the adults in Krissy’s life have missed it? Hell, you’ve been so caught up in your own life, you didn’t even know they were dating!”

“How dare --. Wait, who’s dating?”

_ Well, fuck. Guess Claire didn’t tell him everything _ .

“Look, Cas --”

“Claire and Krissy are dating?”

“Or whatever the kids call it these days.”

Cas sat back down. “Claire and Krissy?”

Dean sat down beside him. “Now, try not to freak out, but I think Claire might be  _ gay _ ,” he whispered jokingly. “But maybe you’ll love her anyway?”

Cas glared at him, but his expression softened. 

“Cas, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. To be honest, I knew it would probably lead to a fight, but I hoped we could get through it. I, god, Cas, I really, really like you. I want to be part of your life, I want you to be part of mine.” Dean reached over and took Cas’s hands in his own. “Everything just  _ fits _ with you, I love being with you. I think we have a real shot at something here.”

Cas looked like he was on the verge of tears, and he looked down. “Dean …”

“I’m sorry man, I don’t regret not telling you, but I am sorry that I hurt you.” Dean reached out and titled Cas’s chin up, their eyes meeting. “Cas, baby, talk to me.”

“You need to go, Dean.” Cas’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Please, just go.” 

“Cas --”

Cas pulled his hands back from Dean’s. 

“Like, go, or like  _ go _ ?”

Cas looked away. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But please --”

“Ok, I’m ….”

“Go now, please!” Cas said. 

Dean got up and headed towards the door. This couldn’t be it. There was a terrible sinking feeling in his gut that told him he wasn’t ever coming back. That Cas meant  _ go _ as in ‘get the hell out of my life’. 

Dean turned in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. Cas just stared at him, his expression hard. For a moment their eyes locked.

“GO!” Cas almost shouted at him. 

Dean ran back out to the Impala and drove away, absently brushing the tears out of his eyes. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Dean develop a plan to save Krissy. Meanwhile, Dean is still feeling the aftermath of his fight with Cas.

"Cas, I know you're pissed. Please call me back." 

 

"Cas, I'm sorry ok? I made the wrong call and I'm sorry. Please just call me." 

 

"Can we talk about this?"

 

"I know you're still upset about Claire, but please just talk to me." 

 

"I'm gonna give you space, I'm not ready to give up on us, so just call me when you're ready."

 

Five days, five voicemails later. 

Dean was starting to think Cas would never call him back. For whatever reason, this has just been too much. And he isn’t ready to move on. Well ok then, but Dean was gonna have to move on at some point. But not yet. For now, he would wait.

But waiting wasn't easy. Dean wasn't sleeping well. He kept waking up, sure his phone had rang, Cas had come to his senses and was ready to talk. Each time he felt like an idiot. 

He stumbled into work, nursing a cup of coffee (having already downed two at home) and trying to pretend he was anything resembling awake. Jody greeted him between his desk and elevator. 

"You look like crap," she commented. "And you're twenty minutes late." 

Dean nodded. "I know, I'm sorry, I overslept." 

"Everything ok?" Jody was a seasoned mom of a teenager, she had the world’s best bullshit detector. 

"Yeah, it's fine," Dean said, forcing a smile. 

"Dean --"

"I said I’m fine." His words came out harsher than he meant. Jody's expression hardened, but she let it pass. "Jody, uh, captain, I'm sorry --"

"We all have bad days," Jody said gently before continuing firmly, "Get your shit together."

"Yes mamn."

Dean made his way to his desk, where Charlie was talking with a young woman ... a young blonde woman. Wow, he did not need deja vu this morning. 

"Hey Charlie. Claire, what did you get yourself arrested for this time?"

"Haha," Claire said sarcastically. "I didn't get arrested, but I need to talk to you." 

Dean put down his stuff and motioned for her to follow him to an empty room. "Is Cas ok?" 

Claire shrugged. "He's not lying in a ditch dying anywhere." 

Dean glared at him. "Glad to see you set the bar so high." 

Claire shuffled around the room, she looked anywhere but at Dean. 

"Are you here to check up on that case? Because I don't have any news to share."

"No."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No." 

“Ok, so Claire, what are you doing here?”

Claire leaned against the wall. “He misses you.”

“Claire, listen --”

“No,  _ you _ listen. My dad is really upset, and he’s pissed at me, and he’s mad at you, but I think he’s mostly angry at himself. He doesn’t know how to do the whole relationship thing, and it’s probably cuz you’re his first boyfriend, and I know I shouldn’t be involved and I really don’t wanna think about my dad’s love life, but he really likes you and he was really happy when you were dating, and I’ve never seen him this excited about anyone else, and basically I --”

“Claire, hold on,” Dean cut her off. “First, this argument is between me and your dad. Second, ok look, I appreciate you coming down here, but this is highly inappropriate --”

“Would you fix things with him?” Claire interrupted. “If I can convince him to come talk to you, would you at least listen?”

Dean sighed. This was one of the worst conversation he’d been stuck in. “Claire. Yes. Of course I’d talk to your dad. I care about him, ok? I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I thought I made the right call, but apparently not. I’d love to fix it and I don’t really understand what he’s thinking, but please listen to me -- you have to let  _ us  _ sort this out, ok?”

“Fine.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Kids. 

“Since I have you here, what did you find out about Victor?”

“Nothing, I told you.”

“Does he have a record?”

“No, Claire, this guy is clean, ok? I had someone run him, there’s nothing. I know you don’t like him, but --”

“This isn’t about  _ liking _ him, Dean, I think he’s hurting Krissy.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I can keep digging, but without something to go on --”

“Why don’t you bring him in and question him? Say you got an anonymous tip?”

Dean grimaced. “Absolutely not.”  
“Why? You’re a cop --”

“Ok, sit down.” Dean waited for her to sit across from him. “Look, I know you’re trying to take care of your girlfriend. I get that. And maybe I’m even proud of you. Here’s the thing, being a cop doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want whenever you want; there’s a system and rules we have to follow, I’m not Batman.” He held up a hand to prevent Claire’s interruption. “That said, sometimes you have to be smart and work around the system to help the people it failed. You think you can get Krissy to come down here so I can talk to her. You don’t have to tell her what it’s really about.”

“Yeah, I can… But I don’t see why you don’t just haul Victor in here? Interrogate him, get in his face, ask him if he’s hurting Krissy!”

“And you think he’ll just admit to it?” Dean countered. “Look, I want to keep your friend safe, but I have to do it once I have proof of just cause to take her away from him. Right now, we got nothing except a bad feeling from you. I trust you Claire, I do. But I need you to trust me too. If I bring Victor in here, he will lie his way out of it, and then what do you think he’ll do to Krissy when he gets home? If he is hitting her, how do you think he’ll react to her accusing him to the police? It’ll be hell for her, Claire. You think she’s got bruises now, he’ll lose it with her. And she will  _ never _ come forward for real.”

Claire was on the verge of tears. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I know this is hard, but I need you trust that I’ve seen this before. It’s the kid who speaks up when no one believes them and then has to go home with their parent who gets hit the hardest. I need proof, ok, the moment I have just cause to remove her from his custody, I  _ promise you _ I will do it. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“I’ll keep digging and see if I can find anything.”

Dean tried to push the meeting with Claire out of his head. He didn’t want to think about Cas, or their stupid argument. He just wanted to work, and catch bad guys, and go home and try not to think about his unreturned calls. He knew he was falling for Cas, he knew he cared about him, but he hadn’t realized he’d cared  _ this  _ deeply until now. A week later, and it still felt super weird that he couldn’t text Cas during the day. They had been sending each other stupid internet memes, funny stories from work, other silly couples-stuff. Cas hadn’t just been his boyfriend, he’d been his  _ friend _ , and that was the part of Cas he was missing the most right now. (To be honest of course, he totally missed the sex and making out and waking up together, but the sting of the silence between them was just as painful.)

This particular day was pretty slow at work, and Dean was happy to go home at the end of the day and collapse on his couch. He turned on the TV, grabbed a beer and refused to move. He was exhausted from his insomnia, and didn’t even notice when he fell asleep sprawled on the couch. He didn’t hear his phone ring or the text alert. Any of the five times. 

A loud knock on the door awoke Dean. He groggily rubbed his eyes while trying to figure out where he was. Another loud knock jarred Dean awake.  _ Who the hell is knocking on my door in the middle of the night? _

Dean stumbled over to the door and opened it to reveal a very disheveled looking Castiel. He was wearing loose jeans, a faded t-shirt, and a maroon hoodie. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair looked unwashed and more wild than usual. 

“Cas?”

“I know, you didn’t answer my calls, but please just hear me out.”

“Cas, I don’t --”

“Please, Dean, I --”

“Calls?”

“I’ve been trying to call you all evening, Dean,” Castiel said calmly.

“Oh. Uh, come in. Sorry, I uh …” yeah, there was no dignity to be had here. Dean ran his hands through his hair. “I fell asleep.”

“Um, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I can go and --”

“No!” Dean said a little too forcefully. “No, I mean, Cas, please, I want to talk. Please don’t go.” He stepped aside, motioning for Cas to come in and sit down. 

Cas followed him into the living room. Dean rubbed his eyes. Castiel was here. He was here. He was ready to talk, and maybe they could just sort out this whole mess. 

Cas’s eyes swept over the living room -- the clothes scattered around the floor, unopened mail strewn across the coffee table along with an old pizza box, a few empty beer bottles and several half empty cups of coffee. Dean’s gaze followed his and he quickly tried to clean up.

“Uh… It’s been really busy at work, I haven’t had time to clean up all week.”

They both knew this was a flat out lie, Dean was too much of a neat-freak to let his apartment look this bad. But he was damned if he was gonna admit how messed up he’d been by Cas’s silence. Dean grabbed up all the mugs and empty beer bottles, balancing them unsteadily in his arms and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment. He reemerged to find Cas  had finally awkwardly perching himself on the couch.

“Dean, I’m sorry to drop by like this, I should have known you wouldn’t want company --”

“Cas, it’s ok, I promise. I,” Dean pulled out his phone from his pocket. _15 missed calls, 5 new voicemail messages_. “I really just didn’t hear my phone. I wasn’t ignoring you, don’t read anything into it.”  
Cas nodded and Dean sat down on the couch next to him, but keeping a comfortable distance between them. Neither of them really knew how to start this conversation. 

“Um, so you called me?” Dean asked eventually, breaking the silence. “What’s on your mind Cas?”

“I’m sorry.”

Dean said nothing, waiting. 

“Dean, I should not have kicked you out like that. I was wrong. I was confused and upset and I didn’t handle it right. I don’t know how to do this, I mean, I haven’t done this before, I don’t know how fighting and relationships and all that is supposed to work.” Cas spoke quickly, maybe he was afraid if he didn’t he would not be able to continue. “Maybe I don’t have a right to ask this, but I hope you can give me another chance. I am so sorry I hurt you, Dean, I thought … I don’t know, I just …”

Dean reached out a hand and gently touched Cas’s arm. 

Cas finally looked up at him. “Can we try it again?”

“I want to. But, Cas, you gotta promise me to try not to freak out like that again.”

Cas nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“And, I need you to tell me why.”

“Why what?” 

“Why you kicked me out. Why you didn’t talk to me for a week. Cas, I get that you were upset about Claire, but something else was under all that, right?”

Cas shrugged. “I, I mean, probably.”

“You gotta do better than that.”

Cas sighed. “I don’t know how to do this, Dean.”

“Do what?”

Cas looked away. Dean slid his hand up to Cas’s shoulder, lightly pulling the other man towards him. “I haven’t dated anyone before,” Cas said finally. Despite Claire telling him this earlier, Dean was still a little surprised. “I don’t know how to fight with someone I care about,” Cas continued. “I don’t know how to balance it all together. And when Claire told me what happened I didn’t take the time to think it through and I felt like you had betrayed my trust. So I got freaked out, and that’s why I got so mad at you and didn’t call you back. I’m sorry Dean, this is all new to me, I should have told you, maybe I shouldn’t have --”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok.” Dean tentatively wrapped his arm around Cas’s shoulders, closing the space between them. “We’ve only been dating a few months, we’re still figuring each other out. I didn’t know this was your first time dating, Cas, you’ve been such a good boyfriend, I didn’t realize.”

Cas trembled in his arms and Dean pulled him closer. 

“Cas, I wasn’t trying to betray your trust. We’ve talked about Claire before, I get why you’re protective of her. I was just trying to help her, keep her from being arrested for real.”

“I know, I know.” They sat in silence for a few breaths before Cas whispered, “Can we be okay?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah.” He leaned in and kissed the top of Cas’s head, hugging him close. “Yeah, Cas. We can give it another go.”

Cas took a deep breath and pulled back, sitting up and looking at Dean. “Would you like to yell at me?” he asked matter of factly. 

Dean almost laughed. 

“I mean it. What I did was not fair to you, and I would understand if there are things you would like to say.”

Dean took a breath. “Yeah, there are some things I should say. Cas, I don’t like what you did. I really care about you, and I thought you knew that. I thought you trusted me, and I don’t know why you couldn’t just listen to me that day, why you were so angry at me. And then you just went radio silent. It hurt, ok, it fucking sucked that you wouldn’t even talk to me.”

Cas nodded.

“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t go off the reservation like that again, ok? I don’t care if you want to shout and throw chairs around the room, please don’t just cut me out again like that. Just have the decency to yell at my face when you’re pissed. And if you need time to cool off, just fucking tell me, just tell me you’re going dark for a few days, don’t make me guess or think that it’s over. Unless it is, then just fucking tell me it’s over.”

“Ok, next time I will yell in your face.”

Dean smiled. “Good.”

“Or better yet, sit down and have a conversation with you.” Cas smiled back at him. 

“Ok. Then I think we’ll be alright.”

Cas nodded. “Dean I want you meet Claire, or re-meet, or officially whatever  --”

Dean shook his head. “Cas, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“We’re ok, I promise. Don’t make a decision because you’re afraid of losing me or because you think it’s what I want. Don’t use Claire as a peace offering, I get --”

“No, Dean, I’m not. But I want this to work between us.” Cas held up his hand to shut Dean up. “Dean, the past few days were really hard for me too, and I realized I just didn’t understand how much I cared about you. I want this thing we have to work, and the only way it can long term is if you and Claire click, because if you don’t we can’t --. I mean, I can’t be with someone who doesn’t work with Claire, it wouldn’t be fair for any of us. I don’t want to keep falling in love with you and then realize we can’t be together.”

(Dean heard it, but he wasn’t going to say anything.)

“So if we’re gonna keep this going, I mean, if it’s gonna be something serious, I need to know whether you two could be ok with each other?” 

“Ok. If you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure. But I need to know if that’s what you want?” Cas started to look away.

“If I want this to be long term?” Dean asked. Cas nodded. “I do, I just…”

“You’re scared I’ll hurt you again?” Cas asked gently. He reached out, taking Dean’s hands in his own. “Dean, I can’t promise you I won’t, but I can promise to try to never do that to you again.”

Dean nodded. He knew the fact he was feeling like total garbage right now was only about twenty percent related to Cas. The rest was leftover crap from the past, and he didn’t want it to come up right now. Not now. Slowly he looked up at Cas. 

“I want this Cas. I want us to work.

Cas leaned closer, gently brushing his lips against Dean’s. Dean pulled Cas close, kissing him hard. Cas parted his lips, allowing Dean to lick into his mouth. Cas sighed into the kiss, running one hand through Dean’s hair and resting the other on the back of his neck. Dean deepened the kiss, clutching Cas’s sweatshirt. 

Breathless, Cas pulled back a few moments later. “Dean, I have to, I want to --”

“It’s okay, Cas. You need to go home?”

Cas nodded. “I would rather stay here and be with you, but it’s late and I have to get back.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Slowly Cas got up, and Dean followed him to the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. Good night Cas.” Dean kissed him lightly one last time. 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

*****

Dean slept well that night, and awoke to a text from Cas in the morning just saying hi and that he’d check in later. Dean was actually smiling when he got to work that day, a detail not missed by either Charlie or Jody who was hovering at his desk. 

“Good morning, Captain. Hey Charlie.”

“You finally sort things out with Cas?” Charlie asked bluntly. 

“Uh …” 

Jody clapped him on the shoulder. “Good, you got a visitor this morning.”

“Who?” 

“Me.”

Dean knew without turning around the annoyed look he was about to see on the blonde’s face. He took a breath and turned. “Hey Claire.”

Claire smiled faintly and dropped a large file onto Dean’s desk. “I did my homework,” she said. “You said I should ask you for help. So, I’m here. Asking.” Claire looked annoyed the very fact she had to physically say the word “help”. Dean could relate. 

Jody headed back to her office and Charlie turned back to her computer, giving them something resembling privacy. Dean pointed at the file. “And this is?”

“You said you ran Victor through the system and he came up clean, right?”

Dean nodded. 

“Well, that’s because  _ Victor Rogers _ isn’t his real name. He doesn’t exist before a certain point, Dean. He has a new identity. He moved here and changed his name. This is a list of all his previously known addresses and names.” She tapped on the folder. 

“How did you get this?” 

“Don’t worry, I solemnly swear I wasn’t a dumbass,” Claire joked. “I uh, I did some research on  _ how _ to do research without breaking and entering. I figured since you couldn’t find anything on him, he must have changed his name at some point. It’s easy to do. So I ran an online background check, did some digging and research, and this is what I found. All these names have charges linked to them, or at least arrests. It’s all online through public search records.”

“You did this? Completely legally?”

“Yes.  _ Now _ do you believe me?” 

Dean opened the folder and started flipping through it. The kid was good. She had names, addresses, pictures from old ID cards -- each one showing Krissy’s stepfather. There were police reports and complaints filed against him for disorderly conduct, workplace harassment, and more. 

“Claire, I’ve always believed you, ok?” Dean looked up. “But this is something I can run with. Hey, Charlie, I need you to run down some stuff for me.”

Charlie glanced up from her computer. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I need you to do your computer wizard magic thing.” He tossed her the file. “Find everything you can on all of these aliases. Especially any crimes or complaints involving minors.”

Charlie nodded. She looked over at Claire but didn’t say anything. 

“Claire, I need you to do one more thing,” Dean said. “I still need you to get Krissy in here somehow.” 

“Why? Dean she hasn’t told  _ me _ anything yet, even when I asked her about the bruises on her arm. What makes you think she’ll talk to you?” Claire’s jaw was set, clearly she was annoyed at what she perceived as a dumb suggestion and hurt that her girlfriend was keeping secrets.

“Look, I know you’re pissed and upset that Krissy hasn’t told you her darkest secret. But Claire, this isn’t about you, so snap out of it. You want to help her, or you want to be a teenager?”

“I am teenager.”

“Not if you wanna keep going with this. Claire, this is grownup shit, and you have to be able to handle that. You have to be willing to comfort and support Krissy, because this is about to get dark, ok? You need stow whatever crap you’re holding onto right now if you wanna help her. Got it?”

Claire nodded. 

“Bring her in after school. Tell her, I dunno, that your phone was stolen and you’re filing a report. Or that Cas asked you to come spy on me. Just get her here.”

“And while I’m thinking up a more believable lie, what will you be doing?”

“Figuring out a plan --.” Dean’s phone rang.  _ Cas _ . Great. He’d have to deal with that whole thing in a moment. He sent the call to voicemail. “Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

Claire shrugged. “Probably.” She pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket. “Good thing I have a doctor’s note signed by my dad to be late though.”

Dean took a breath. This was not gonna go over well with Cas. “Ok, you need a ride?”

Claire shrugged again. “Nah, I’ll take the bus. Also, showing up in a police car, not exactly good for my image. See you. Bye Charlie.”

Charlie waved, her eyes never leaving her computer screen and her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Dean, come check this out. I got a lot of stuff on this guy. Did Claire do this research? She’s amazing.”

“Tell me when you’re done, we need to tell Jody what’s going on.” 

“Give me another hour just to make sure I got everything. What’s your plan for our actual jobs though?”

“If Claire is right, this kid is in danger, everything else can wait. You got this? I need to make a call.” Dean headed for the breakroom, but several people were sitting in there, he tried a few other rooms, but most places were occupied. The problem with the precinct was there was no real privacy anywhere. Finally he settled for sitting in his car.

“Hello Dean,” Cas answered. 

“Hey, Cas. Sorry I couldn’t talk before, I was in a meeting.” 

“It’s alright.” There was a long silence. 

“Cas? What’s up? Everything ok?”

“I uh, I thought after the way we left things… I thought after last night, maybe I should call and just see um, if, Dean, I --.” 

Cas was adorable when he was flustered. 

“Cas, it’s okay. I’m glad you called.”

“You are?”

“Cas, don’t make it weird, ’course I am. When can I see you again?”

“Is tonight a good time?”

“Yeah, tonight is --. Well, ok, Cas there’s something I need to tell you and I need you not to freak out, ok?”

Cas was silent for a long moment. “Ok.”

Dean quickly explained about Claire, and about helping her out, and that she’d done a lot of research and that he needed to help her protect Krissy. “I’m sorry man, I know this isn’t how you wanted me and Claire to spend time together, but --”

“Claire cut school and forged a note?”

“Uh yeah, I mean, she --. Yes, that’s exactly what she did. But Cas, at least she’s cutting school for a good reason --”

“Dean, please don’t tell me how to raise my kid,” Cas interrupted sternly. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry Cas, I didn’t mean it like that. But she’s doing it because she cares about Krissy. And she doesn’t feel like the grownups in her life are handling this right, I’m not telling you how to be a father, I just, I dunno I admire her audacity or something.”

Cas sighed on the phone. “Alright, I’ll take that into consideration. You said Claire is coming back there later with Krissy?”

“Yeah, and before she does, I have to figure out a way to get Krissy to say something that will justify me getting a warrant on this guy.” 

For a moment Dean thought Cas had hung up, but eventually he said carefully, “What were tests or questions you avoided as a child?”

“Cas, I, what --?”

“Dean, I wanted to talk to you about this in person. I don’t even think you realized that you said it to me that day at my house. But you said you wished you’d had a friend like Claire. I uh, it took me a few days to register what you’d said, but I did.”

Dean took a deep breath, he couldn’t fall down this hole, not right now. 

“Dean?”

“Yeah, let’s save this for an in-person conversation, Cas.”

“I’m sorry --”

“It’s fine.”

“Dean --”

“It’s a good idea, Cas. Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.” Dean hung up, leaning his head against the steering wheel. He took some deep breaths, trying to focus his thinking to the here and now. He barely remembered saying that to Cas, but Cas was right to point out that Dean was uniquely qualified to figure this out. It was also why he felt so strongly about helping this kid, or why he believed Claire’s hunch. She was right that grownups don’t often trust kids, and he wished to god they did. Here was his chance to change that. 

Back inside, and much calmer, Dean grabbed Charlie and the new case file and headed for Jody’s office. He told her everything he knew so far, and Charlie added in with the additional info she had found through the criminal databases. 

“So basically you want to engineer a sting operation to make your boyfriend’s daughter’s girlfriend admit that her stepfather is hurting her so you can arrest him?” Jody asked when he was done.

“And we have to plan it before school gets out today,” Charlie added. 

“Of course, all the best ops are planned under pressure with no solid evidence,” Jody said.

“Captain, come on --”

“Dean, you’re too close to this.”

“I’m --. What?! Captain, I’m exactly the right amount of close to this --”

“Dean --” Jody started.

“Charlie, could you please step outside for a moment?” Dean asked, his eyes locked on Jody.

“Uh --”

“Go,” Jody directed. Once the ginger was gone she started to speak but Dean cut her off.

“You remember the night I showed up on your doorstep?” Dean asked. “Sam was asleep in the back of the Impala, he was so tired and confused, you helped me carry him inside and put him in your guest room.”

“Dean --”

“I was sweaty and gross, and you didn’t know why my clothes were so dirty but you ordered me to take a shower. And I was so exhausted, so so tired, that when I came out of the shower with just a towel around my waist, I didn’t think about what my arms looked like.” Dean took a breath, he needed to hold it together. “You took one look at me and you knew what had happened.”

“I knew your dad had a temper, but I never realized until that day that you had been the victim of those drunken rages,” Jody said quietly.

“That was the day you reported him and got custody of Sam,” Dean pushed on. “You wouldn’t even let us go back to his apartment to get our stuff. Jody, come on, please, this kid is scared. She doesn’t want to break up her mom’s marriage, and she’s too deep to get out without help. I’m asking you to help her, just like you helped me.”

Jody sighed. “Damn it, Dean. You know I have a soft spot for kids in trouble.”

“I’m counting on that. Captain, what would you do if this was Alex? Wouldn’t you want someone to protect her?”

“You’re absolutely  _ sure _ that Claire is right?” Jody asked.

“Does it matter?”

“You have one shot at this.”

“I know,” Dean said quietly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Claire pull their sting operation

“Ok everyone. Claire is on her way here with Krissy,” Dean said, looking up from his phone. Jody, Charlie and Sam all nodded and headed to their respective stations. Dean shot a quick text to Eileen telling her it was go time. 

“You really think this is gonna work?” Charlie asked. 

“It has to. Claire says Krissy’s mom is leaving on another trip this weekend, so we gotta get her out of that house before she’s alone with Victor again. So I’m gonna do whatever I have to protect this kid.”

Charlie gave his a curious look. “You’re not doing this for Claire or Cas are you?”

Dean didn’t look at her. “No, I’m doing this cuz no kid should be afraid in her own house.”

Thankfully, Charlie let it drop. She turned back to her computer, away from Dean. A moment later Claire appeared next to Dean’s desk with another young woman.

Krissy was short, with dark curly hair loosely framing her face. She was wearing ripped jeans (which kids weren’t, these days?), a dark graphic t-shirt, a blue plaid flannel, and a jean jacket. Standing next  to Claire in her leather jacket and black jeans, they looked more like a rock band than high schoolers.

“Hi Detective,” Claire said, faking a smile. “I thought I could bring Krissy here and show her around. You know, since it’s where I work now.” Claire rolled her eyes at Krissy. “It’s like anywhere else, no one remembers the interns.”

Krissy laughed. Dean gave Claire a smile just as fake as her own. “Watch it kid, or we’ll pull you from research and you can go back to making coffee,” he joked. 

Claire shook her head. “You guys couldn’t do this job without me.” She turned to Krissy. “I just cracked a case wide open for them. Did all the research and found all the dirt they needed to put away this real creep.”

“Hey Claire, who’s your friend?” Charlie asked, swinging in her chair to face them. 

“This is my girlfriend, Krissy.”

“Nice to meet you, Krissy.”

Krissy gave Dean a visual once over. “You seem alright,” she said drily. 

Dean shrugged, “I can see why you two are together,” he commented to Claire. 

“Hey, since you’re here,” Charlie said. “Krissy, you ever seen an interrogation before?”

“Charlie!” Dean scolded. “Don’t scare her.”

“You mean like where you trick the bad guys into confessing?” Krissy asked. “I watch a lotta detective shows,” she explained. 

“It’s not usually like that,” Charlie said. “Criminals never make our lives that easy.”

“No interrogations today,” Dean said. “But Claire, if you wanna take Krissy down to the forensics lab and show her some of the stuff down there, they got some new equipment that’s pretty cool.”

“Sure, sounds fun I guess,” Claire mumbled. Charlie smiled and led the way down to the lab.

“By the way, the woman who works down here, Dorothy, is super awesome. She’s like one part techie and one part inventor,” Charlie announced. Claire and Krissy exchanged a look. 

Charlie’s crush Dorothy showed them around forensics, explaining what Dean referred to as the “science mumbo jumbo that lets them catch bad guys”. 

“What’s this?” Dean asked, picking up a weird instrument that looked like an old time scanner. 

“That’s a prototype,” Dorothy said, grabbing it back from him carefully. “I’m still working on it. But basically it’s supposed to scan anything.”

“What do you mean, ‘anything’?” Claire asked. 

“Uh, well, here, I can show you.” Dorothy flipped some switches and tapped some buttons on the scanner. “Here, just, uh, show me your palm.”

“So it’s a fortune teller too?” Claire asked drily as Dorothy slowly rolled the scanner over her hand.

“Not on this setting,” Dorothy joked, and Charlie stifled a laugh, which earned her a look of curiosity from the scientist and getting her  hand scanned next. “Oh interesting,” Dorothy remarked, glancing at the computer screen at her station. “it says you’re going out on a date tonight.” Charlie blushed.

Claire encouraged Krissy to go next, and she held out her arm. Dorothy ran the scanner along her arm, glancing at her computer screen a moment later, her expression neutral. 

“This is really helpful, you know,” Dorothy commented as she scanned along Krissy’s other arm. “I mean, I still need to run some more tests before I can patent this. I’m working on the deep tissue setting, still perfecting it. Mind if I --.” She rolled the scanner over Krissy’s face, then Claire’s, then Charlie’s. Dean watched the screen over her shoulder, and sure enough, one set of scans looked different than the rest. 

Dorothy seemed happy to geek out for hours with her audience, but Charlie politely apologized that they needed to get back to work. Dean led the way back upstairs, letting the ginger hang back for a moment.

“And?” Charlie asked, stepping around to look at the computer screen.

Dorothy nodded gravely. “Dean was right.” She walked Charlie to the door. 

“Can you send those files to the Captain, Dean and me?” 

Dorothy nodded. “How was it?” she asked. “Did I do ok?”

“Perfect!” Charlie beamed. “You were great. I owe you, big time.”

“How about you finally ask me out to dinner like you’ve been daydreaming about for weeks?” Dorothy smiled and Charlie turned bright red. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.” She winked at Charlie and headed back down to the lab. 

 

Dean had pulled Claire aside to go over some work stuff with her real quick, leaving Krissy sitting in the waiting room. A woman came in a moment later and sat down next to her. Her hands were shaking and she almost spilled the coffee she was holding. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, signing while she spoke.

Krissy didn’t know any deaf people, but she knew Claire had mentioned meeting an FBI agent who was deaf and some of the basic things she’d learned. Krissy turned to face the woman and said clearly “it’s ok,” without shouting or over enunciating. The woman tried to smile but she looked really upset. 

Krissy tapped her gently on the shoulder. “Are you ok?” she asked. 

The woman shrugged. “I had to come file a police report,” she said. “I got hurt at work, and at first everyone at work was blaming me, because I’m deaf, saying that I probably messed up or made a mistake.”

“That sucks,” Krissy said. 

The woman nodded gravely. “Yeah. It happens sometimes. And sometimes I even believe it, I think, maybe if I could hear, it wouldn’t have happened. But the detective I just spoke to assured me that was not true.”

“People shouldn’t blame  _ you _ for getting hurt,” Krissy said, realizing at the woman’s confused look that she was mumbling. She spoke more clearly as she continued, “I mean, why would they blame  _ you _ if you’re the one who got hurt. That isn’t fair.”

The woman nodded. “The worst part was when a friend at work did not believe me. I started to think it meant no one would believe me.”

“But the police did?”

The woman nodded. 

“I know how that feels,” Krissy said, “to feel like no one will believe you or want to help.”

“Is that why you’re here?” the woman asked. She looked around, perhaps realizing that Krissy was alone. “Are you alone?”

Krissy sighed. “Feels that way. No, my girlfriend works here. I was just visiting her.”

After a long moment, in which Krissy thought the conversation had ended, the woman turned and tapped her on the shoulder. Her eyes were filled with concern and sympathy as she asked slowly. “Are you ok?” 

Krissy was going to shrug it off. To say she was fine. Like she always did. She was going to crack a joke, or make a stinging retort. But there was something deep and honest about the way this woman was looking at her. This woman who was clearly shaking from something. Something told Krissy that this woman would see through her emotional lies. Maybe she would get it. Claire wanted to, Krissy knew that she cared, but there was something safe, something comforting about confessing it all to a complete stranger who she’d never see again.

Slowly, fighting back tears, Krissy shook her head. “No, I’m not. And I want to tell her, I do, but she wouldn’t get it. She wouldn’t understand. I’m not ok, I’m …. I don’t want to get hurt anymore, you know? I don’t … I don’t think I’m supposed to. But I can’t tell anyone. I can’t.”

The woman nodded along to show she understood.

“I just … I’m scared all the time. And I don’t want to be. I want to tell her, and I’m also terrified she’ll find out. And my mom … don’t even get me started. My mom doesn’t give a  _ shit _ about any of this, as long as she’s happy she could care less about me. Or what happens under her roof.” 

“Your mom is hurting you?” the woman asked.

Krissy shook her head. Her vision was going blurry from trying not to cry. “No. My stepdad. He’s a total piece of crap, I don’t know what my mom sees in him.”

“And you told her?”

Slowly. So so slowly. Krissy nodded. 

 

* * * 

 

“FUCKING BITCH,” Claire swore.

Dean shushed her. 

Jody sighed heavily.

“I should --”

“Claire, I know you’re pissed, but you gotta hold it together, ok?” Dean whispered. He turned his attention back to the computer monitor, through which they could watch Eileen and Krissy’s conversation. 

“Captain, is that enough?” Dean asked. 

“Let’s see if she’ll say anything else,” Jody murmured. “Since we’re already ripping this band-aid off. Eileen is doing great leading this conversation, we might just get everything we need.”

 

* * * 

 

“And you told her?” the woman asked Krissy gently. 

Krissy nodded. She hated her mom. She hated her stepdad. She hated herself for spilling all this and breaking down to cry in front of a stranger. But she also felt so much lighter having said it. Someone at least believed her.

“I told her, not the first time, because he threatened to hurt me. But I told her the second time and she said she didn’t believe me because if I was telling the truth I woulda said something the first time.” Krissy shook her head. “It’s all very confusing. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” 

The woman smiled sadly. “It’s ok. Sometimes you just need someone to listen.” She laughed. “Ironic, right?” 

Krissy smiled back weakly. “I should go find Claire. Thank you.”

“Maybe, since you’re here, you might tell a detective your story?” the woman asked. “I bet you’ll find someone here who will believe you.”

Krissy nodded. “Yeah, maybe.” She headed for the exit, and almost ran into Dean. 

“Hey, sorry for keeping Claire away for so long. It was great to meet you though.” 

“Uh yeah, thanks.”

“Hey, kid, you ok?”

“What?” Krissy realized her eyes were probably red. She looked away. “Oh, uh, just give me a moment. Bathroom?” 

“Down there on the left.”

Krissy bolted for the bathroom, locking herself in one of the stalls for a few minutes and collecting herself. She came out and splashed water on her face, trying to make her eyes appear less red. She was tougher than this, she was hard and mean and could get through --

Claire appeared beside her, and wrapped her arms around Krissy’s shoulders. Their eyes met in the mirror and Krissy let Claire pull her into a tight hug. 

“I won’t let that dirtbag hurt you ever again,” Claire whispered fiercely into Krissy’s hair. “We have everything we need to put him away, just come tell Dean everything and we can protect you.”

Krissy stiffened. 

She backed away from Claire slowly. 

“You did this, all of this?”

“Krissy --”

“Do you even work here?” Krissy backed up, reaching for the door. 

“Krissy, I wanted to protect you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you, please -- ”

Krissy bolted.

 

 * * * 

 

Dean’s phone rang.  _ Claire. _

“Claire? If you’re calling me from the bathroom we really are gonna have a talk about boundaries.”

“Shut it. I tried to talk to Krissy and she took off,” Claire whispered.

“What. When. Where are you?”

“I’m following her now. I think she’s headed home, but I’m not sure.”

Dean nodded. He was looking at the scans from Dorothy’s test. All he needed now was a judge to sign off based on these and Krissy’s chat with Eileen.

“Ok, Claire listen to me. I’m working on getting an official order now, ok, I need you to stay with Krissy. I’m sending Charlie to give you backup, but you have got to keep your eyes on her, ok?”

Charlie was already running a location trace on Claire’s phone and throwing her jacket on. 

“Charlie is on her way now. Don’t let Krissy out of your sight.”

Dean hung up, leaving his phone on loud in case Claire called back. Eileen waved at him,  _ she ok? _

Dean shrugged.  _ I hope so, _ he replied. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sting operation has disastrous consequences for Krissy and Claire. As Dean and Jody race to save them, Dean's relationship with Cas might be on the line too

It took longer than it should have for Jody to get the warrant to arrest Krissy’s stepdad. Dean was grinding his teeth and ready to trash the judge’s office by the time it was signed. He texted Charlie that they were on their way, but heard no response. Jody somehow ended up driving the Impala and Dean was too focused on getting there to care. 

His phone dinged a moment later.  _ Claire _ . It was a video message. It looked like Claire had followed Krissy all the way home. The video was clearly taken in secret, and showed Victor screaming at Krissy, and towering over her. 

Dean swore under his breath and immediately texted Claire. YOU OK?  No response. Dean let out a string of profanities, to which even Jody cocked an eyebrow. Dean watched the end of the video again.  _ Shit _ . Victor spotted her and was making a beeline. Claire had sent this in case she got caught and lost her phone. 

“Drive faster Jody,” Dean almost shouted. 

“Call Charlie again, tell her to move in now.”

Still no answer from Charlie. 

They pulled up in front of Krissy’s house -- a decent looking suburban bungalow, nothing too special about it. Jody and Dean were out of the car, guns drawn, and ran into the house. They formed up and slowly made their way through the hallways, checking bedrooms and the bathroom, announcing themselves and urging Victor to give himself up. 

Dean rounded the corner into the kitchen. A woman was curled up in a chair, tears streaming down her face, and whispering “stop, please just stop, stop,” over and over. Jody kneeled down in front of her, checking her over. Dean made one more pass through the house, but found no one else.

“They’re gone, he must have taken them.” He checked his phone. “Backup is two minutes out. Think this is Krissy’s mom?”

Jody nodded. “Mamn? I need you to focus. Did your husband take the girls? Where are they?” 

The woman was clearly in shock, and just kept repeating “stop it, stop, please.” Jody kept trying to reach her but to no avail. 

Dean stepped outside to make a call. “Cas? I need you to drop whatever you’re doing and get to Krissy’s house now.”

“Dean? What happened --?”

“ _ Now _ Cas.”

“On my way.” 

_ He is gonna hate me so much after this _ . Dean tried to push the thought from his mind. He had told Claire to keep an eye on Krissy, but he never imagined she’d put her life in danger like that. And where the hell was Charlie? Why hadn’t she been there? Had she been taken too? Claire was an angry teenager with maybe one high school self-defense class under her belt, but Charlie was a trained cop. Dean had seen her take down people twice her size without breaking a sweat. 

Dean called her again. Still no answer. Officer Donna and her partner Mike showed up, Dean waved them inside to help Jody with the mom. Jody emerged a moment later. 

“I called dispatch. They’re putting an APB out on Victor and the girls. And his car, assuming that’s how he took them. Dean. Where the hell is your partner?”

“I dunno. And believe me I’m pissed. She’s not answering her phone or anything. Jody, do you think Victor took her too?”

Jody shook her head. “No way. She’s too good for that. The station is running a trace on Victor’s phone but let’s assume he’s turned off the GPS. Think. We gotta find them. Now.”

Donna and Mike were leading Krissy’s mom out.

“What’s gonna happen to her?” Dean asked.

“We need to calm her down and hopefully get answers,” Jody replied. “But right now they’re taking her to the hospital to stay under guard. She can’t talk right now.”

Dean banged his fist down on the car trunk in frustration. “Ok, there’s something we’re missing. Got to be. Where would he go?”

“What about Claire’s pile of research? What do we know about him from that?” 

Dean pulled out his laptop and opened the file he’d created on Victor. The man had been around the block, but Dean wasn’t seeing any patterns to his lives yet.  _ Think, think! _

A car pulled up a few minutes later. Cas jumped out and headed over to Dean and Jody. Jody gave Dean a sympathetic look. 

“What do you know about Krissy’s stepdad?” Dean asked immediately.

“Dean, where is Claire?”

“He took both girls, Cas. We have no leads at the moment. What do you know about Victor?”

Cas shrugged. He didn’t seem to have processed the part of about Victor kidnapping his daughter. “Uh, he works at a bank. He’s their assistant intake accountant or something, I don’t really know. Her mom works in a factory down by the river --”

“It’s always an old factory,” Dean grumbled. 

“I’ll call them and sound the alarm,” Jody said. 

Dean took a deep breath and finally met Cas’s eyes. The other man looked ready to scream or cry, but he was clearly making an effort to keep calm. 

“Cas, I am so sorry. Claire was never supposed to go into the house. Charlie was supposed to be here, and we still don’t know where she is --”

“Dean.” Cas’s voice was hard and cold. “Bring her home.”

Dean nodded. 

Jody reappeared. “The factory doorman guard person says that a truck like Victor’s just arrived a few minutes ago. Their in-house security will detain him until we get there. Let’s roll.”

Dean snatched the keys back and Jody hopped into the passenger seat. Cas slid into the back of the Impala and they were off. His face was hard and he didn’t say anything the whole drive there. 

“Almost there,” Dean announced.

Jody’s phone rang. She listened for a few moments and then told Dean. “Factory security grabbed Victor on his way out.”

“And the girls?”

Jody shook her head. “His truck was empty.”

“So where the hell are they?!” Dean almost shouted.  _ Fuck fuck fuck _ .

Dean’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number.

“Dean,” a voice whispered. 

“Claire?” Dean said. He put the phone on speaker and handed it to Jody. “Are you with Krissy? Are you ok? Victor --”

“He had us. I’m with Krissy. Victor had a gun, he was gonna take her. You said not to take my eyes off her.”

Dean sighed. Yep, Cas was definitely going to kill him. “Claire, we have Victor in custody, but security didn’t find you. Can you turn the GPS on your phone on?”

“He took our phones, but I keep an emergency old school one on me that he didn’t know about. There’s no GPS.” Her teeth were chattering.

“An extra phone --.” Not important. “Claire, where are you? Can you describe it?”

“I dunno, it’s dark, it’s uh … it’s freezing in here.”

“Does the factory ship frozen foods?” Cas asked quietly. 

Dean and Jody shrugged. “Probably.” Jody quickly made a call to tell the police on site to start searching the refrigerated containers. 

“Claire, listen to me. You have one very important job, ok? You survive. You and Krissy both. You stay safe, we are on our way now, ok? I won’t let anything happen to you,” Dean promised.

“Dean, it’s so cold here.”

“Huddle together for warmth if you can. We’re on our way, ok? You stay awake, don’t let each other fall asleep, ok? Claire? Keep talking to me, alright?”  
“My dad is gonna kick my ass,” Claire said between shivers.

Dean smiled grimly. “Yep, your dad is right here, Claire, ok? He’s on his way with us, we’re almost there. Is Krissy awake?”

“Sorta.”

“Ok, keep her talking, we’ll stay on the line with you.” Dean glanced back and could see tears welling up in Cas’s eyes. “Claire, anything you wanna say to your dad, he’s right here.”

“Hi Claire,” Cas said, his voice full of emotion. “I’m on my way to see you, ok? Just stay awake for me, and keep yourself … Please, I have a whole dad-speech prepared for when I see you.”

“Dad, I’m so sorry. After everything, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok, Claire. It’s ok, I love you, you know that?” Cas was barely holding his voice steady. Dean reached a hand back to him and Cas squeezed it for support. “I’ll see you soon, ok, just keep yourself awake. I’m so proud of you for protecting your friend, I’m so mad at you for being an idiot.”

“I know Dad, I promise you can ground me forever when you get here.”

They were at the factory, cop cars around them blaring sirens. An officer came over and said they were still searching the cold containers but there were over a hundred spread out in four different sections to the right. “We’re never gonna find her in this,” Dean mumbled. “Jody, tell them to cut the sirens. Now.”

“Claire, it’s Dean.”

“Hey Dean.” Her voice was weaker.

“Can you hear the sirens?”

“Sorta.”

“Ok, we’re gonna drive past the cold containers and I’m gonna blast just my siren. I want you to tell me when it’s loudest.”

“Like the Doppler Effect?”

“Nerd.” Dean mumbled. “But yeah, just like that.”

He flipped on the siren and drove through the different sections. Several officers followed them on foot. “Claire? Anything?”

“No.”

Dean tried the other sections, but nothing. Victor must have put them out of the way, in an unauthorized area. Dean hit the gas and barreled down the rows of shipping containers, and finally --

“Yes!” Claire said weakly. “I hear you. No, go back. There, that’s the loudest.”

Dean hit the brakes and jumped out. Jody looked at the manifest of containers the guards had given her. “These are all … oh, there, container 247 is listed as ‘cold storage’.” 

It was a red container about two paces away. There were several padlocks on it, which the guard’s keys didn’t work for. 

“I think I hear you banging on the walls,” Claire said. Dean handed the phone to Cas, and pulled out his gun. 

“Stand back.” He shot the locks and ripped the chain off, throwing open the doors to reveal a very frozen Claire and Krissy, huddled together against the wall. Cas dashed forward, enveloping both girls in a tight hug.

“We need the paramedics,” Dean called, following Cas. The two of them carefully carried the girls out, Cas taking off his jacket to wrap it around Claire. 

Everything happened so fast next. The paramedics arrived and treated Krissy and Claire for hypothermia and shock. Jody set to work taking down statements from the factory workers and asking for security footage of the area. Cas refused to leave Claire’s side, and Claire wouldn’t let go of Krissy’s hand. 

Dean climbed up next to them in the ambulance. “Krissy, we have your mom in custody, but you don’t have to see her if you don’t want to.” Krissy nodded, she was still pretty out of it, but she seemed to understand. “There’s a social worker who will meet you at the hospital, she’s going to act as your advocate. Anything you need, just tell her, ok?” 

“And tell my dad,” Claire said. “We can help too.” 

Cas nodded in affirmation, giving Claire a sidehug. Dean smiled. “Yeah, Cas and Claire are on your side. And let me know if you guys need anything, I have to finish up here.” He nodded to Cas before leaving. 

Dean finally took a breath and leaned back against the side of the Impala. They were safe, the girls were safe. They had Victor in custody, everything would be ok --.

_ Charlie _ .

Dean called the precinct and asked for a trace on her phone. It wasn’t like Charlie to not pick up. She had known the stakes of this case, and since Victor hadn’t taken her, she’d been set off course before she got to the house. Where the hell was she? Was she ok? 

“Dean.” Cas said gravely, breaking into his thoughts. “They uh, want to take the girls to the hospital, so I’m going to ride along. Thank you for finding them.”

“I’m sorry, Cas, I’m so sorry. I --” There were so many things he needed to say to Cas, so many feelings and thoughts that he couldn’t get them into a sentence, so words just tumbled out. “Cas, I never meant … Claire shouldn’t --, I mean, she wasn’t supposed to --. Things got out of control … I just, please, Cas, you gotta believe me, none of this was supposed to happen. I am so so sorry, and I understand if you never want to see me again, but please, just, please, I --.”

Cas clasped his hands gently. “We can talk later, ok?”

Dean nodded. Was that a good thing? Was Cas just waiting until the first wave of trauma was over to deal with breaking up with Dean? There was no way Cas would ever want his daughter or probably himself around Dean -- since they’d met, Dean had managed to put both of them in a position of getting kidnapped, along with the whole violating Cas’s request not to be in touch with Claire. 

Perhaps Cas saw all this going through his mind. He reached forward and awkwardly hugged Dean. “Dean, don’t think like that. We have a lot to talk about, but I’m hoping this isn’t the last time I see you, ok?”

Dean slowly looked up and met his gaze. Cas smiled tiredly at him. Dean was coming down from his adrenaline rush and the exhaustion was setting in, all he wanted was to curl up in Cas’s arms (assuming Cas would still want to be near him after today.) “Ok. I’ll come by the hospital in a little bit.”

Cas nodded and headed back to the ambulance. 


End file.
